Another Story
by Mike Canary
Summary: It's a few years after Malachor, and the companions of the Exile have begun picking up the pieces of a shattered Republic. But for Mira,there's one last hunt she must hunt. She needs to find The True Sith Empire. Ties directly into new game and trailer.
1. Chapter 1 After Malachor

**_Hello to anyone reading this. I began this story mostly to be a companion story to my other Story in progress, "How Few Remain", a story set in an entirely different time (Jedi Purge). For those of you who have read it and are reading this, I can only tell you to be patient. The relation between the two stories will be made clear eventually. I hope to have both of these stories to intersect each other at the same time. For those of you who haven't read my work before, I strongly encourage you to read the other story, but it's not all important that you do to get this story. This was all just an idea of mine where i was like, "Oh, that would work out nicely." Before I continue, I just want to make a comment on how I write. I really try to make things work into canon as much as I can. It's a good challenge and I like to make my stories work with everything else. So, I suppose a little background knowledge._**

**Spoiler alert**

**_For those of you who don't know, Mira comes from the second Knights of the Old Republic game (Once again, aside from fan made characters, everything here belongs to Lucas Arts). The premise of the game takes place several hundred years before the movies and revolves around the conflict between one of the last of the Jedi, the Jedi Exile, as she battles the Sith along with her companions. One of these companions is Mira, a bounty hunter hired to keep an eye on the Exile and protect her (Yes, I'm making the Exile a girl, that's the canon). The Exile discovers that Mira is Force sensitive and begins to train her in the ways of the Force. Together, Mira, the Exile, and the rest of the gang battle the Sith acrss the galaxy, cumulating in the battle of Malachor, where they desperatley destroyed the planet and the Sith Academy hidden there. They narrowly escaped. Kreia, the main antagonist in the game, told the Exile what she foresaw would happen to all her companions before she died. Our story begins there..._**

_**P.S. For those of you who have played the game, don't ruin it.**_

_She will stop hunting life, and instead, live it. She was not born to be a predator, despite her true father and the life she led within the shadow of Nar Shaddaa. She will miss you and think of you often. You, who awakened her to what life is. She will live … _

―Kreia to Jedi Exile on Mira's future

* * *

Mira sat in the Dancing Bantha, a cantina located on Nar Shadda, nursing a drink. It was quiet as far as Nar Shadda went with occupants enjoying the drinks and only the occasional bar fights erupting.

"Ahh," she thought leaning her chair back against the wall, "Nothing quite like home." It had been five years since the Exile left for the Unknown Regions; six since the events on Malachor, and so far, everything they'd done had seemed worth the hardship. Mira felt their works impact most here on Nar Shadda, where the Exiles deeds had inspired hope among the refugees and many were now banding together to open businesses in an attempt to stave off poverty. The Dancing Bantha was one such business, run by a woman named Nadaa. She didn't remember Mira from her travels with the Exile, but the Exile had saved her and her daughter Adana from being enslaved by the Exchange.

"Good memories," She thought watching the many refugees and poor folk drinking at the bar. Nadaa had kept the prices of her drinks low, letting her business thrive and supplying cheep drinks for her fellow refugees. They were still poor, but things were improving.

Mira helped them when she could, trying to remain unnoticed by wearing robes ragged and worn even for a Jedi. She kept her hood up, face shadowed, enjoying the throbbing of the Force around Nar Shadda. It was like a living thing, welling up and diminishing with the emotions of the moon. When she'd been here with the Exile, it had felt much more erratic, more fearful and desperate.

She sighed and shut her eyes, reaching deep into the Force. A small blip registered in her mind seconds before the doors to the club burst open. A squad of men marched in wearing heavy armor and carrying blasters and vibroblades. The leader, a blond haired man carrying a double bladed vibroblade marched up to the bar Nadaa was manning. She let her hand drop beneath the counter, no doubt reaching for the small blaster she'd left there.

"Don't be hasty," the leader said holding the blade up to her neck. "Hands where I can see them!"

Nadaa slowly raised her hands and placed them on top of her head, face fearful.

"Now," the leader continued addressing the whole bar. "This lady has failed to pay to the Dellian gang its cut of her profits. Naturally, we have to make examples of such defiance. As such, she will now pay in limbs." He raised his vibroblade as Nadaa raised her arms to protect herself. Mira didn't remember drawing the Mandalorian pistol from beneath her robes, but a second later, the man fell, clutching a stump where his arm had been.

"I'd leave if I were you." Mira said loudly drawing the hood of her robe back. Revealing her short red hair and glaring eyes.

"What are you going to do about it?" One of them said swinging a repeating blaster towards her. A loud clattering followed as refugees throughout the room drew blasters and stun batons. One old man who Nadda had hired as a chef wheeled a portable blaster cannon out from the kitchen. Many of the people had a hard glint in their eyes. Nobody threatened one of their own, particularly one who worked so hard to become successful.

"Aside from punch some blaster bolts through your bellies," she said grinning at the man and lowering the aim of her pistol, "I might tear you a new place to piss, cuz your old one won't work anymore." The man paled and began backing out of the club.

"You'll pay for this." The man said before hurrying out, helping his wounded comrade.

"I'm shaking!" She called sarcastically after them. Applause broke out as the double doors of the bar slammed shut. The refugees cheered and Nadaa said, "Free drinks for everyone here for the next hour." The cheering naturally redoubled. Nadaa motioned for Mira to come towards the bar where she was quickly refilling everyone's ales and beers.

"Thank you for taking care of those thugs." She said, "The Delian gang has been trying to get me to pay for months now, and I've just refused them. I figured they didn't have enough manpower to back up their claims."

"They don't." Mira assured. "Ever since the local Exchange was broken up, these gangs have been popping up everywhere. Most of them just end up wasting time and resources fighting each other and can't really even control their own territory. Things have really improved here." Mira remembered when the Exchange had enough strength to try and force the refugees to become slaves en masse. Nadaa's own daughter had been taken by them and was only rescued when the Exile infiltrated their base. Mira still remembered thinking that the Exile wouldn't last long with that naive need to help people. How wrong she'd been.

"Yeah, but the Delian gangs have been gaining power I hear, and I doubt they'll just let us get away with wounding one of their leaders."

"I guess we didn't really think about that." Mira mused. "Any chance you can get some of the refugees to help you guard it?"

"I doubt it." Nadaa said worriedly, "Most of them can handle a blaster and a lot are willing to fight, but they've got to look after themselves to and in a head to head fight, they'd definitely die."

"I'll keep an eye on it tonight." She offered. "They probably won't even try anything, but if they try to burn it down or something, I bet I could stop them." Nadaa stared for a moment, and then shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask; Are you a bounty hunter or something. I've never seen you before." Mira thought for a moment. She wasn't a bounty hunter, not anymore, but she didn't feel like the Jedi she was supposed to be.

"I'm just... a friend," She answered after a moment, "who came back to keep an eye on you guys. Don't worry. I can handle any of them." Mira hoped she was right.

* * *

Nadaa and her daughter lived in a small apartment above the cantina. It was a humble home, but probably the better then most of the refugee's homes. Mira sat in the shadows, watching the few clusters of people who still walked the streets, mostly drunks looking for women to satisfy their carnal pleasures. Mira had already had to break three arms and one guy's leg before the rest seemed to get the message. She supposed she was asking for it though. Before she went to stand guard outside the bar, she'd returned home to grab her old leather ballistic jacket with rocket and dart launcher attachment. It felt weird wearing it again; she hadn't since she ended her career as a bounty hunter.

After Malachor, most of the group had gone their separate ways. Mical, Visas, and Bao-Dur had begun to rebuild the Jedi Order, gathering Force sensitives and working to keep the Republic alive. She'd had occasional contact with them and knew that restoration efforts were going well. They'd asked her several times to come and help them, but she'd refused. They didn't need her help, she was only ordinary compared to them. Besides, Coruscant was nice, but she didn't like the idea of living out the rest of her life as a monk, no sir. Mandalore had disappeared as far as she knew, probably to gather more Mandalorians to Dxun and no one knew where Goto had gone. And Atton... Atton had disappeared. Out of all of them, he'd been most broken by the sudden departure of the Exile. After all they'd loved each other. Mical had loved the Exile too; they'd all sensed that, but he had a purpose; to rebuild the Jedi Order. Atton's purpose had been to protect her, and now that she was gone...

"Snap out of it." She whispered sharply to herself. "Can't get distracted now. Hate to die after all I've been through." She shifted so the pistol at her belt didn't dig into her side and steadied the carbine in her hands. She didn't want to take any chances. They may have been gang members, but they many were veterans of the Mandalorian and Jedi Civil War. None were to be taken likely. Plus, there was something strange about this Delian gang. Logically, one of the feuding gangs was bound to get the advantage eventually, and that gang would probably become the next Exchange for this area. Still, Mira hadn't expected that to happen for several more years. How could they have managed to get powerful enough without outside help?

"Unless they did have outside help." She thought grimly. "It's possible that's someone's trying to reestablish the old regime here. Someone with a stake in Nar Shadda's criminal activity." This was no grand revelation to her; she knew hundreds of criminal organizations probably ran parts of Nar Shadda, and that many would once again try to muscle in on the refugee sector. Mira would have to show them that her home was off limits. Her attention shifted as another crowd hustled by.

"More drunks." She thought the watching group of men laugh raucously as they walked by. "Probably trying to get into one of the late night bars." Sometimes, she didn't understand why she continued to live on this ragtag world. Seemed like everyone mugged each other by day, and got drunk together at night. Still, the life of the city excited her, making her feel more alive than on worlds like Dantooine and Dxun. Another group suddenly caught her eye, this one walking almost upright. The men staggered slightly, but Mira knew it was probably an act to help them blend in. Mira strapped on a pair of target assessor goggles and watched them approach the Nadda's cantina.

"Pure Pazaak." She whispered. The infrared of the goggles showed there to be maybe eight men, all armed similarly to the men who had entered the cantina earlier. The one with the repeating blaster was leading them, pointing at the bar and whispering to two men carrying a shoulder mounted rocket launcher.

"That's cute," she continued to herself. She stood up and began walking towards them men, placing the carbine gently on her hip. From her belt she selected a small Kyber dart. Extremely poisonous and deadly in the right hands. She slipped the dart into her launcher and, taking careful aim, sent it whizzing into the neck of the gang member carrying the launcher. He fell soundlessly, hand clenching the dart and ripping it out.

"Yeah," she said just loud enough for them to hear, "Like that'll help." She brought the carbine up and blazed into the crowd of men. Two fell with head wounds and another three were hit before they managed to get bring their own weapons to bear. Mira threw herself to the side, carbine still firing into them with accuracy aided by the Force. Rolling, she crouched behind a pillar of an old building and drew her Mandalorian pistol from her holster. She could have been stealthier about attacking them or used the Force to attack them directly, but this wasn't just about protecting the cantina; it was about sending a message. And she definitely didn't want to reveal that she was a Jedi. Besides, she couldn't throw up huge storms of lightning or push entire squads of men back like Visas or Mical. The Exile had trained her to use more unorthodox techniques.

"Still," she thought arming a thermal detonator and setting it into the launcher on her wrist. "Something like that would have come in handy here." She turned from behind the pillar and launched the thermal detonator at the men. They still hadn't separated, which Mira found odd since even the most basic being would have known to do. Maybe they thought she didn't have heavy ordinances. Boy, were they wrong. The thermal detonator tore through two more men, killing them and sent two more flying. Mira winced at the sight. She'd hoped she'd never have to kill anyone again since the departure of the Exile, but these guys were too well armed to take lightly. One hit his head and fell unconscious; the other landed hard on his back, and groaned.

"Oh good," Mira said to the man. "Your still able to walk I take it." The man looked up, and drew a small holdout blaster from his side. His shot went wide as Mira dodged and kicked the blaster from his hand.

"None of that now," She said wagging her finger at him. "I need you to take a message back to whoever sent you. Tell him that this is my town, and any further violence against the refugees will not be tolerated. Tell him I wi-"She stopped. The man's eyes were unfocused and blurry. She reached out with the Force and felt alcohol embedded into the man's system. This guy was slobbering drunk.

"Drunk!" She thought quickly. "By why would drunks be targeting Nadaa's place? Unless..." She turned just in time to see a small jet stream following a small projectile streaking towards the bar.

"NO!" she screamed, but it was too late. The lower part of the cantina exploded, sending flames shooting upward into Nadda's apartment.

_**Please review and give me your opinions. After all, if I don't get any feedback, I won't keep it going. So tell your friends.**_

**_Next chapter will come soon._**


	2. Chapter 2 Traps

**_Chapter 2 is up. I hope you all enjoy. If any of you have any advice on plot, characterization, or anything else, please review and give me your opinions. Also, if you want more background information on characters from the game mentioned in here, I suggest using Wookipedia._**

Mira sprinted without thinking, arms pumping, towards the enflamed building. The lower part of the building was still largely intact, but she could almost feel the beams holding the apartment above buckling as the flames chipped away at them. Reaching out, Mira used the Force to jump through the air, barely grabbing the side of the cantina roof. She pulled herself up and threw herself forward into a flip towards the apartment. Nadda and her daughter, Adana, were already awake and trapped behind a growing wall of fire as the roof continued to burn. They looked at her, eyes pleading her to rescue them from the inferno. Mira reached out with the Force, trying to smother the flames as she crouched through the flames.

"Hang on!" she called out through the increasing smoke. "I'll get you out." The heat was intense and only getting worse. Mira noticed that the more she used the Force to try and smother the flames, the more violently they seemed to feed and grow. She tried drawing the oxygen from the areas surrounding the flames, but something wasn't working. The flames seemed to have a mind of their own.

"_Damn it_." She thought shielding her eyes from the smoke, "_Why didn't the Exile teach me breath control? I know she could do it_." She finally reached the pair, and heaved a sigh of relief. Miraculously, both of them were safe aside from a few scrapes and bumps. Mira indicated for the girl to get on her back and for Nadda to follow her back to where the flames were less intense, but the way was blocked by fallen debris. Mira could see no way past it.

"What now!?" Nadda cried desperately. Against her back, Adana began to sob despairingly. Mira looked around them. There was no way out of the room that she could see. They'd just have to make a hole. Selecting the weakest wall she could find, she reached down began selecting from her wide selection of grenades and rockets, then stopped, horrified. The heat was intense and Mira suddenly realized that her grenades were burning her hand. They were red hot.

"Frag!" She yelled ripping her belt off and hurling it at the wall. "Get down!" She pushed Nadaa and Adana back into the far wall and then dove on top to cover them. Behind them, her belt exploded. Mira felt like she was being beaten by sledgehammers on every inch of her back and a sharp pain tore from her left thigh down to the rest of the leg. A second later, Mira was rolling and bouncing across the roof. She hit the small ledge wall hard lay for a second, stunned. Nadda and Adana were nearby, unconscious, but Mira could still feel them alive in the Force. She tried to pull herself to her feet, but her left leg screamed in protest. She drew her blaster pistol and peaked over the small ledge wall. The gang members were definitely gone, but Mira wasn't taking any chances. Reaching into her pants pocket, she pulled a comlink out and punched in a code she'd memorized, but thought she'd never actually need.

"Hussef, please respond. There's an emergency down in Nadda's cantina. Get someone with medical training over here now." She waited for a response and for a while, nothing happened. Then…

"Yes, I hear. What happened? We could hear the explosions from here."

"Just get over here." Mira said urgently, "And bring blasters." Mira then turned off the comlink and went back to watching the street, pistol scanning the empty corridors and alleys.

* * *

An hour later, Mira sat watching one of the refugees patching up her leg. It had been peppered with shrapnel from one of her frag grenades. It was painful, but each of the tiny shards was carefully extracted and placed in a small tray by the man. He then sprayed a small bottle of burning disinfectant and attached a small IV line of bacta to the wound.

"They were good whoever they were." Mira told Hussef. "And ruthless. They convinced a group of drunks to masquerade around in their armor and attack the cantina in exchange for credits. According to one of the men who was still alive, the man leading them was the only gang member remaining. The rest had taken off in the drunks clothing carrying hidden weapons. They then walked right by me without me noticing." Mira hung her head, shame starting to burn through her. Outwitted by a bunch of second class mercenaries. Was she that out of practice? She looked at Hussef who looked more worried then she'd seen him in years. Hussef was the de facto leader of the refugees, mostly just keeping an eye on them and making sure nobody stepped out of line. He had been in charge when the Exile had united the refugees and saved them from slavery. Naturally, Mira had neglected to mention her involvement with the whole affair, but she figured that was for the best.

"The fact that the Delian gang managed to destroy the cantina presents a problem." Hussef said gravely. "A lot of people had their money tied up in that place and if the Delian gang decides to fight a war against us we definitely can't do anything about it. A lot of us would probably die." Hussef looked at Mira with a hard expression on his face, then sighed. "I suppose you were just trying to help, but your no Jedi young lady." The words hit Mira like a blaster bolt. She realized he was right. The Exile would have easily have negotiated with the men and would never have been fooled by their attempted trickery. Mira knew she'd never actually completed her training under the Exile. The rest of the group had gone on to help recreate the Jedi Order and there had completed theirs. Still, she felt she could at least protect a group of refugees.

"I know you're wounded and all," Hussef continued, "but I have to ask; Why did you help us?" Mira looked at Hussef and realized that, no matter what, Mira was leaving Nar Shaddaa. Hussef already knew. Mira could tell. Crossing her arms, Mira began to tell Hussef her story.

A couple hundred feet from the bombed out cantina, a dark figure watched the refugees patch up the young lady. The figure wore a long black cloak and robes. He was watching the scurrying refugees trying to put out the remaining smoldering fires of the cantina with some amusement.

* * *

"_Poor pathetic peasants_." He thought. "_They have no idea about the wider movements of the galaxy, about the currents that shape their lives_." He smiled, relishing his own power over those currents. Behind him, the gang of mercenaries approached him.

"Well if it isn't the man who didn't bother to pay us for the job." The mercenaries spread out, bringing their weapons to bear on his back, resting their sights on his head. "We took out the cantina, and we want our money. Now!" The figure turned menacingly.

"If you want your money so badly, I'd bring it up with the Delian gang. They're the ones who are paying you." The leader snorted derisively. "Besides, I wanted you to record that young lady's reaction to the attack.

"Oh, we have the holovid recordings." The man said waving it at the man mockingly. "But we want payment first.

"So bring it up with the Delian gang already." The man was starting to lose his patience with the mercs.

"Yeah, funny thing." He said sarcastically, "They were found dead this morning, killed in their sleep. Care to explain?" The figure raised his hands his hands and smiled at the armed men. They were arranged in a semicircle around him, weapons trained on him."You're the only one who knew where every member slept at night and the only one therefore that could have had them assassinated."

"True," the man said grinning, "But do you have any proof?" The man took careful aim at his head.

"Do we need it!?"

"No." The figure said reaching for a small cylinder from beneath his robes. "Either way, in a few moments, none of that will matter."

* * *

Hussef stared at Mira as she finished her story. Naturally, she'd left out most of the parts not pertaining to herself and the refugees. She was especially careful to leave out information on the Exile and Malachor. She didn't know if Hussef had a loose mouth, but she knew all too well how easily private information could get out, particularly if the person was under interrogation. Hussef's expression changed from surprise to a grimness that for just a moment reminded Mira of the Exiles when she incapacitated him in the boondocks of Nar Shaddaa.

"That pretty much explains this." Hussef said handing Mira a piece of flimsiplast. Upon the plast was set of elegant writing politely telling the "Jedi to give herself up or entire worlds will burn, starting with the refugees". Mira assumed that by Jedi, whoever wrote this had meant her.

"This is a direct threat against us." Hussef said worriedly, "We have women and children who would die. I know you helped us, but…"

"I understand." Mira said smiling sadly. "Will you guys be all right without me? What about the Delian gang?"

"They're dead." Hussef said simply. "They were all killed last night." Mira started upon hearing this.

"Wow Hussef," she said quietly. "I didn't think you were that ruthless."

"Yeah well, I have to protect my people." Hussef countered. "And now, that doesn't include you being here."

"Very well." Mira said nodding. "I'll be gone by tomorrow."

* * *

A few hours later, Mira was walking about her apartment, trying to savor the place that had been her home for the past couple years. It was a small hovel, basically four walls, a cot, and something resembling a stove. To be honest, she rarely even saw her room. Most of her time was spent walking through the streets of Nar Shaddaa, enjoying the sights and smells of the city. Even so, this was the place she'd been able to come to, to hide at, and sleep at for as long as she lived here. She wasn't remarkably sentimental, but that didn't mean she wouldn't miss it. Still, whether she felt like it or not, she was a Jedi, and she wouldn't stay here if it meant people would die in her name.

"_Besides_," she thought beginning to pack her belongings into a duffel bag, "_Perhaps going to a different planet will force my attacker to reveal himself._" It reminded her disturbingly of the Jedi's situation a few years ago, when they too had gone into hiding and were slowly picked off by Sith assassins. Perhaps it would be better to wait for them to strike the refugees, and then counterattack. That way, she could remain hidden and have the element of surprise.

"_No, no_." she thought shaking her head. "_I'm a Jedi. Whatever this threat is, I have to draw it out where it can be fought_." She continued packing her most personal possessions. These included a pair of robes the Exile had given her before she departed. "Meditation robes." she'd called them, "With them, you should have an easier time sinking into the Force to tell right from wrong." Mira had just nooded, taken the robes, and not worn them since. Still, she kept them around, just in case. She also packed her ballistics jacket and a few changes of clothing. Finally, she came to her two most precious possessions. The first was a set of heavy Mandalorian armor. During the Mandalorian wars, Mira had been enslaved one of the troop squads battling the Republic. They'd gradually become her family, turning her into a demolition expert and having her lug their supplies around. They'd all died on Malachor. When that Mandalorian who'd been traveling with the Exile heard about that, he'd given her a full set of their famous armor, telling her that "This stuff will keep you alive in those fire fights the Jedi has a nasty habit of getting into. A lightsaber only goes too far." It still had a slight gleam to its bronze metal and beneath the carbon burns and blaster scars; a person could tell it had rarely been used. Mira had only worn it twice, once when she led an attack on Sith forces on Dxun and again while defending Citadel Station from the Sith. Both were battles she'd had time to prepare for and where she knew there would be heavy fighting. So far, the armor had gotten her through both.

The other item was her lightsaber. A Jedi's weapon. Formerly a Sith's. It had been during the battle on Duxn and she had led several of the Exiles companions deep into the jungles of Dxun to destroy Sith reinforcements waiting there. The fight had been bloody and her two companions were badly wounded by the time they reached the entrance of the tomb the Sith were using as a base. Mira could feel the dark side radiating from the room and as she entered, she was greeted by three Sith masters. They'd fought. Mira had lost. She'd been lying there waiting for them to finish her when she felt the Force flowing through her like never before. Reaching out, she'd pulled one of their lightsabers from their hands. She'd rolled to her feet and she barely remembered the next minute or so, but when she finally deactivated her saber, the three Sith were dead. Later, the Exile taken her to the caves on Dantooine and allowed her to choose from a variety of crystals. She'd protested, saying that the color of her lightsaber didn't matter, but the Exile had insisted, saying that "A lightsaber may at times be the only thing distinguishing you from the enemy. Especially on a battlefield. " So she'd searched for a crystal among the many formations growing from the wall. Finally, she'd felt a formation reaching out with the Force towards her. It was like she was feeling a steady, pulsing hand on her shoulder. She had knelt by the formation and gently plucked a small fragment. It glowed fiery orange as she ran a sliver of the Force through it. Smiling, she gently opened up the hilt and placed the small crystal within it. Now, it was truly hers. It had followed her since then, protecting her from blaster bolts and assassins, guarding her through countless battles. On Malachor, when confronted by her greatest enemy, a Wookie named Hanharr who bore a vicious grudge against her; it had been the only thing standing between her and his whirling vibroblades. After that, she'd barely used it, not wanting to be exposed as a Jedi. Still, the glowing orange blade was comforting and radiated the same life of Nar Shaddaa. It was her right as a Jedi to keep it.

Her bags packed, and any lingering feelings of regret she had dispelled, Mira shouldered her bag and made sure her blaster pistol was still comfortably in its holster. She'd left most of her grenades and darts, but she knew she could simply rig up some new ones in a junk yard somewhere. Shouldering her bag, she walked out and onto the docks. Whoever was hunting her would have to catch her first.

* * *

Twenty feet away, the dark figure was watching the Jedi walk away from her little apartment. She was limping slightly on her left leg.

"Why's she limping?" He asked the little figure standing behind him.

"She was wounded while trying to protect the cantina." Hussef said nervously. "She had some shrapnel in her leg when we found her. I'm assuming it came from the mercenaries."

"That's a shame." The man said distantly. "I told the men to not harm her. Not that it matters now." Hussef nodded, head bobbing wildly. He'd dealt with minor gang leaders and crime lords before, but this man felt different. Somehow, scarier.

"Speaking of gang members." Hussef said fidgeting nervously. "I heard you dealt with the Delian gang. I can't tell you how grateful we are." He bowed low. "If you don't mind, I need to go check on Nadda and her daughter so…" Hussef began edging towards the door, but then stopped. He could feel the mans eyes on his back, watching him, drilling into his soul. He tried to open the door, but it was locked.

"I'm afraid you can't leave." The man said calmly, drawing a small pistol from his robes. Hussef gulped and looked around, searching for a way out.

"But why?" Hussef said desperately, jiggleing the doorknob franticaly. "I did just as you said. The Jedi's leaving the planet just like you planned. Why kill me?"

"Because," the man patiently said, "I can't have anyone running around spouting little facts like my description, location, or even the fact I exist." He used on hand to push Hussef up against a wall and placed the blaster gently on his temple. "Now, I am going to give you a choice though." He removed the blaster from the man's temple and gently placed it in Hussef's own hand. "You can either pull your own trigger, or I can kill you." Hussef looked at the blaster, looking shocked. Then, without thinking, he raised the blaster and fired. A second later, Hussef fell dead to the ground.

**_Thanks to everyone for reading. Please review. Thank you!_**


	3. Chapter 3 Lucky Star

**_Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoy the next couple of chapters._**

The _Lucky Star_ wasn't what you'd call a luxury cruiser. In fact, it was actually a former Republic _Hammerhead-class _cruiser. It had been stripped of most of its military equipment and bought by an entrepreneur with an eye for the crippled luxury cruiser business. The Republic, more desperate for credits than ships, had gladly sold it to the man. On its maiden voyage the ship was proclaimed an enormous success and many viewed it as a sign that the Republics economy was on the rebound. Since then, it had remained the premier luxury cruiser. Still, the genius behind its success had decided that not only the rich should enjoy its beauty. So, the _Lucky Star_ was now touring the lowest slums of the galaxy, picking up passengers and taking them on cruises past the greatest sights they had ever seen. Nebulas, imploding stars, and other galactic wonders were viewed from the enormous window walled observation lounge, where the passengers sampled exotic foods and drinks at their leisure. Of course, what the philanthropic owner didn't understand was that many of the people he picked up were actually rich crime lords and their musclemen. Few actually were the poor and middle class he expected.

"_Still_," Mira thought boarding the ramp of the _Lucky Star_, "_it was a kind thought and anyone who has the guts to land a rich cruiser in the slums of Nar Shaddaa, even with an obscenely well armed security force, is someone whose hand I want to shake_." She'd had some credits left over from some of the little jobs she did on Nar Shaddaa and just about all of them had gone into her ticket for the cruise. To be honest, it didn't matter to Mira how she escaped Nar Shaddaa. She would have been just as satisfied sneaking into the cargo hold and hiding out for a week or two. However, the whole point of her leaving was to let her assailants see her leaving. If she just snuck away, than there was still a chance the refugees would be attacked and harassed. Still, Mira was uneasy about traveling on such a full cruiser. If assassins tried to attack her here, it would be difficult to protect everyone. She meditated on this as she found her way to her room. It was a coach room, simple yet comfortable. She dropped her bag onto the floor and sat in the far corner of the room, back to the wall, facing the door. Making sure her blaster was securely at her side, she crossed her legs, letting herself sink into sleep.

* * *

On the Bridge of the _Lucky Star_, the Aqualish Captain Unda Karpa was pacing the deck. They had a very important visitor arriving today. One of the ships chief investors and a noted senator, Dia Antilles, was onboard and no doubt watching to see if his money was going to a profitable cause. Unda intended to make sure he kept his pocket book open. After all, his employer's prosperity was on the line and Unda knew that to fail may not only cost him his job, but also the chance of ever getting a captain job again. A beeping from the comlink on his belt caught his attention.

"Captain." A voice said crackled from the device. "Mr. Antilles has arrived. Should security escort him up to the bridge?" Unda thought for just a second. He was not as foolish as his employer; He knew most of the people onboard were criminals or crime bosses. Still, a guard escort might seem rude or hostile.

"Yes, but please make sure he knows that it's only for his own protection." He clicked off the comlink and went back to watching the stars.

* * *

Sandil was enjoying the cruiser immensely. As far as missions went, this one was a piece of cake so far. He sat back in a lounge chair, observing the milling crowds. He blended in rather well, wearing the same suits and ties as everyone else. Personally, he hated it. The room was warm, and the tie felt like it was trying to choke him. He continued observing the room until, suddenly, he saw his target walking briskly between two guards. The guards were well armed and armored, but Sandil wasn't worried. He'd planned ahead. Following them as stealthily as he could, he watched. As his informant had told him, Dia Antilles had followed his guards down stairs to the coach apartments as a shortcut to the bridge. About halfway down, they tripped the gas mine Sandil had left there, sending both of them into unconsciousness. Sandil walked down the stairs slowly. It was all so easy, it should have been illegal.

"_Actually_, "he thought with an inner chuckle. "_It kinda is_." He drew a small syringe from his pocket and gently began to inject the poison onto the necks of the guards. Once they were taken care of, he picked up the senator with a grunt, throwing him over his shoulder. As quickly as he could, he began running down the stairs towards the nearest escape pod.

* * *

Back in her room, Mira's eyes shot open with a jolt. Someone was in trouble nearby. She had felt the deaths of two individuals and, while they were only tiny blips in the Force, there was definitely something wrong. She wasn't sure where, but somewhere close. Drawing her blaster and throwing her jacket on, she opened the door slowly looking around outside for trouble. There were a few people wandering the hallway, mostly families and couples trying to unload luggage into their rooms. Mira holstered her blaster and began striding down the hallway. A few people stared at her. After all, the _Lucky Star_ was a black tie ship and she was wearing a revealing jacket and leather pants. She ignored them, including a mother who shooed her children inside and muttered something about showing some decency. Hurrying towards the staircase, she was surprised to see the door open before her, revealing a man in a suit carrying another unconscious partygoer over his shoulder.

* * *

"Excuse us." He said bumping past her. "Little too much to drink I'm afraid." Mira watched him hurry away, and knew right away she'd found the person in danger. She reached out with the Force, sending a tendril of the air to slowly wrap around his ankle, tripping him. The man fell hard and cracked his head on the floor. He rolled over, groaning as blood trickled down his forehead. Several people hurried to help him to his feet. Groggily, he tried to tell them all he was fine, but Mira got there first.

"He's suffered head trauma." She said holding the mans head and opening one of the man's eyes with her fingers. She turned and looked at the people standing around her. "Looks like a concussion. Can any of you try help him to the med bay? I'll take care of his friend." A well dressed Rodian offered to help and, despite the man's desperate protestations, he and the Rodian were soon out of sight. With that, the crowd began to dissipate, no doubt intent on enjoying the rest of the luxuries the ship had. Mira meanwhile began dragging the man back into her room. He was heavy, but with a little help from the Force, he was lying face up on her cot while she inspected his head for abrasions, injections, or anything else that indicated he may have been harmed or kidnapped. Nothing.

"_Probably oral or olfactory based then._" She thought reaching for the med kit she kept in her bag. "_Could also be sonic, but that I doubt. To loud_." She continued examining him until she finally noticed a small pin prick on his arm. Almost invisible to the human eye, it looked like something had been injected into his primary vein. But what?

As if in answer to her thought, the man's body began to convulse shaking uncontrollably. "_Cardiac arrest!_" She thought trying to hold him down. Her med kit had an all purpose antidote that could, in theory, help purge any poisons from a person body, if injected fast enough, but he was struggling too much to let her inject it into a vein. Suddenly, it was over. The man was dead, lying spread eagled on the cot. A second later, a knock came from outside.

* * *

Captain Unda didn't normally like to leave the bridge of his ship. Still, certain things called for a more personal touch. The death of two of his men and the kidnapping of a VIP were such times. Unda was a cautious man, and as soon as Dia Antilles had come aboard, he'd had one of his men place a small tracking device tuned to the ships sensors so that no matter where he went on the ship, Unda could find him. So when he'd noticed that Dia's tracker showed him in a coach department, and when he'd noticed that two of his guards were lying incapacitated on the stairs, he immediately grabbed a squad of his security officers and had rushed to the apartment. One of his men was banging on the door, ordering whoever was inside to give themselves up. Naturally, no one came out. Unda signaled for two of his men to prepare to break down the door while the rest trained blaster rifles on the room. With a bang, his two officers kicked the door down and rushed in. There was a woman inside, standing over the body of Dia Antilles. She had her hands above her head and was trying to calmly explain what had happened. She didn't get far before a stunner struck her in the stomach, knocking her unconscious.

* * *

Mira awoke to the smell of garbage. Rich people garbage, but still garbage. She pushed herself groggily to her feet and tried to see through the pitch blackness. She immediately felt at her side for her blaster and was unsurprised to find it missing, along with any explosives or other supplies she'd had on her.

"Well," she thought sitting on the least moist pile of garbage she could find. "At least there's not a Dianoga in here." They'd been known to hide out in garbage compacters, waiting beneath the water for scraps from the garbage. Still, she didn't want to meet a ten meter hungry cephalopod without a blaster on hand. A loud mechanical clanking caught her attention as the door to the compacter opened, letting a flow of light inside. A pair of guards walked in.

"Outside," One of them said roughly, still keeping his blaster trained on her. Mira obeyed, keeping her hands on her head. The guards relaxed slightly and followed her outside, ordering her down the hallway. Again, she obeyed until she came to the blast door protecting the bridge. There, a whole squad greeted them, sure to keep their blasters on her. One of the guards punched in a code in a nearby terminal, and the blast doors hissed open. Inside, Mira recognized the Aqualish captain standing with a blaster in hand. He'd been talking with a figure in a large hologram projector. Judging by the way he was moving, the conversation had not been pleasant. The captain turned and looked at Mira.

"Ah, if it isn't our little stowaway bounty hunter."

"Former bounty hunter." She corrected sharply.

"Really," the captain said with a snort. "Your recent action suggests otherwise."

"Recent action?" Mira said innocently. "What do you mean?" She could already see where this was going.

"I mean you are formally charged with the murder of Dia Antilles, and at the next stop, you are to be dropped off, and escorted to the nearest prison facility for processing." He pulled a pair of stun cuffs from his belt. "Young lady, you are under arrest."

"Is there any chance we can talk about this?" Mira asked nervously. "I'm sure this is just some big misunderstanding."

"Yeah, and I'm a rancor." The captain said sarcastically. "We pulled up Republic records, and there's a woman who matches your description registered in the Bounty Hunters guild. Supposedly, an expert with mines and explosives. Goes by the name of Mira. Ring any bells." Mira knew she was trapped. Somehow, she suspected she'd been set up by whoever was hunting her. That assassin had baited her, drawing her into a trap she couldn't escape without hurting innocents.

"Your luggage has been confiscated by ship security," the captain continued, "and you are to be taken back to your room and placed under house arrest. Understand?" He signaled his guards and, pushing her along with the butts of their rifles, they marched down the hall.

* * *

Mira was sitting in the room, contemplating how to escape. In her experience, there were two ways to escape a dangerous situation; big and loudly, or small and stealthily. Small and stealthily was, under the circumstances, impossible, but big and loudly would cost lives she didn't want to take. So, she was waiting, searching the Force for an answer to her predicament. So far, nothing came to her. And, there was another problem. The bounty hunter records certainly wouldn't include her recent Jedi training, but if they searched her bags thoroughly enough, the guards would eventually find her lightsaber. If that happened, they'd immediately either recognize her as a Jedi, or as someone who has killed Jedi. Either way, they wouldn't underestimate her again, and she'd lose the advantage of surprise. She sat for a few minute, pondering her dilemma, when the answer suddenly came to her. It was a risky plan, but it just might work. Sitting on her cot, she waited trying but failing to immerse herself in the Force. It was easy for her when not under pressure, but she never had the focus of Mical and the others that was required to call on it in heavy combat. At least, not the more advanced forms, like calling storms of lightning down. She'd have to rely on her cunning here. Finally, she found a grasp on the Force and reached out, feeling the air around her. Then, she did something that she'd never done before.

While on Nar Shaddaa, she and the Exile had discussed ways of concealing themselves from the bustling streets. They'd both observed the way that witch, Kreia, could disappear without the aid of a cloaking device or stealth generator. They'd pondered how she did this until the Exile finally came up with what Mira believed to be the answer. Mira thought that Kreia may use the Force to bend the air around her, changing it so that it reflected light away from the user, rendering normal eyes unable to see them. Mira and her had attempted to do this, but during their travels, could never bend enough to hide more than a hand or a leg. Now, Mira decided to try again, and if she failed, well, she wouldn't have to worry about after that. Now there was only one thing to do. Standing by the door, she closed her eyes, focusing the Force on the air around her. She felt it vibrating around her. The flow of power and life was amazing and Mira shook with the effort of maintaining her hold on it. It was more than she'd ever tried to control before and it felt like she was holding hot irons in each of her hands. Gradually, she bent the air around her, letting it absorb certain spectrums while repelling others. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked down. Her legs weren't there, but the rest of her looked like it was floating in mid air.

"Well," she thought as the Force surged, warning her of approaching guards. "This might be a problem."


	4. Chapter 4 Discovery

The door to the room was about to open. Thinking fast, Mira jumped straight up, grabbing a metal pipe hanging above the wall. She pulled herself up, trying to cover as much of herself as possible. The door hissed open, and the guard entered, rifle ready. He looked around in confusion for a moment, then was thrown back as Mira swung her feet down, kicking him hard in the head. Of course, to his companion, it looked like he had just fallen backwards for no apparent reason. He knelt down to check on his companion, then was stunned to see Mira's boot materializing in front of his face.

"_Well_," Mira thought picking up their abandoned rifles. "_At least I'm armed now_." She checked the power cells of the rifle, hefting it and looking down the sight. It seemed adequate. Carefully, she began walking down the deserted hallway. Now for her lightsaber. Reaching out, the Force felt like a fog, impossible to see through with her weak vision, and even harder to grab at. Still, like a beacon of light in the dark, her lightsaber was shining. A Jedi's weapon, one wielded by her for so many years, was special. It was as much a part of her as her arm was. So she could feel it, lying in the captain's hands as he rolled it between his fingers, fascinated by its sleek design and vibrant orange color. Mira felt a flash of anger, then forced it down with a small smile. After all, she'd be getting it back soon. Running down the hallway, she heard guards following her, no doubt alerted by whatever security the captain had placed on her room. Rounding the corner, she was mildly surprised to see a line of guards standing, blasters leveled at her chest. Not even slowing down, she slid, taking the legs of one guard out with her feet and flipping two other guards with her hands. She brought the other guard up, wrapping one arm around his neck to use him as a shield while her other held her blaster rifle balanced on the man's shoulder. Mira watched them men dive for cover as she opened up, filling the room with blasterfire, backing up slowly as she did.

"_Now_," She thought, "_all she had to do was force the captain to drop out of hyperspace and_-"

She didn't finish that thought. The blond man who she had knocked unconscious earlier, the one she'd caught carrying Antilles, popped seemingly out of nowhere behind her and rammed a stun baton into her side. Mira felt the electricity shoot through her body and fell to her knees before a second jab blanketed her vision in darkness.

* * *

Hours later, Mira awoke lying on a hard stone floor. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and groaned.

"Brought down by some two bit partygoer." She rubbed her side where the stun baton had burned her side. Next time she saw that kriffen assassin, he was going to pay with a decent chunk of his skin. She looked at her surroundings, searching for a way out. Apparently, there was none. It was some type of cell, typical stone floors and barred windows. Drafty too.

"_Thank the Force these criminals never get any more creative_", she said sliding her hand along the walls, looking for indents or cracks she could exploit. Then she noticed something disturbing. The walls were certainly old and cracked, so a powerful Force push could probably give her an escape route. Even she could muster enough strength to knock down a rickety wall. However, when she reached for the Force, she found it wasn't there. It wasn't that she couldn't grab it or feel it. It simply wasn't there at all. For a moment, Mira panicked, but then gained control of herself.

_"What could possibly do that_?" She thought moving to the door. Looking through the small barred window, she squinted into the dark. Nothing. There was no guards, no evil master mind, just a stone hallway with stairs to the left. Mira turned and went to the window, looking out into the blinding sunlight. The outside was covered in forest and, judging by how tall the trees seemed, her prison was buried into the ground. It seemed full of life, with insects buzzing about and a species of beige lizard sunbathing lazily on the tree trunks.

"_If this room is mostly underground, it will be a little more difficult to escape_," she thought looking on her person for anything she could use as a lock pick. "_Nothing! They must have searched me earlie_r." She turned, this time facing the door. If she couldn't open the door, she'd have to go through it. Running, she through her shoulder into the door. It rattled, but didn't move. She backed up, and charged again, this time jumping and ramming both her feet into the bars of the window. They bent under the combined strike from both her feet, but a second later, she landed on her side and her head hit the floor with a sharp crack. Groaning and getting to her feet, she observed the damage she'd done. The three bars had bent out of the doors wooden frame and one was now hanging only from the top part of the small window. Taking that bar, she pushed and bent until it finally broke off from the top.

"_Wow_," she said to herself as she wiggled the tiny bar into the space between the door and the wall. "_Someone is really underestimating me._ _They could have at least put me in a well built prison."_ In fact, the whole prison appeared to be suffering from a bad case of jungle rot. Using the metal bar as a crowbar, Mira pushed and wiggled the door open, bit by bit, until the rusted latch and lock finally broke. The door opened slowly and Mira stepped out, looking around. The Force was still beyond her reach, as though it was pushed back beyond some unreachable plain.

"_Still_," she thought, "_if there's life on this planet, the Force should also exist, right?_" If the Exile was here, maybe, she'd be able to answer. Mira pushed those thoughts out of her mind, and began walking up the stairs. She was rather shocked to see that the stairs ended at a wide clearing surrounded by the forest, and that lying a few feet away from the entrance was her small duffle bag, her blaster, and her lightsaber. Her instincts suddenly told her that where she was standing was a bad place to be. Grabbing her bag and blaster, she jumped as an explosion rocked the ground behind her, sending Mira flying. She quickly whirled to her feet, turned and stretched her hand out, trying to call her lightsaber to her hand. Nothing happened.

"Oh," she said looking at her hand dumbfounded, "Right." A second later, a figure stepped from the woods. Draped in black from head to toe and wielding an force pike from which energy sparked on both ends, the figure was clearly a Sith Assassin, one of many she and the Exile had fought in their travels.

"Then again," she said leveling her blaster, "back then I could touch the Force and had a lightsaber wielding berserker at my side." She opened fire, aiming at the assassin's masked face. He moved like lightning, dodging each burst she sent at him, all the while closing in on her, trying to get her within range of his pike. Mira stood her ground, focusing her fire on his legs now, trying to trip the assassin's wild charge. He dodged every blow and jumped, aiming his pike straight for her chest. Mira backpedaled wildly, and a second later, the pike buried itself into the ground where she'd been standing. The assassin jumped, using the pike to push himself forward into a leaping kick that caught Mira in the stomach. She fell backwards, landing with a small thud as her back hit a tree trunk. The assassin pulled the pike out of the ground and spun, aiming for her chest again, trying to drive through her and into the tree trunk behind her.

Mira threw herself to the side, rolling desperately to get out of the way. Meanwhile, the pike drove deep into the tree, buried halfway in. The assassin tried to pull it out for a moment, then shrugged and drew a small knife from his belt. He jumped, trying to surprise Mira from above, but she was ready this time and a barrage of blasterfire caught him in the left leg and arm. They weren't killing blows, but at least she'd hit him. Then, he fell on top of her, his right arm driving the dagger towards her throat while the left pressed her right arm and blaster to the ground. She caught the thrust with her left hand and pushed, trying to keep the deathblow from landing. It was a stalemate for a moment, then the dagger slowly began to move closer, driving steadily towards her neck. With a burst of adrenaline, Mira broke her right arm free from the man's wounded arm and held the barrel to the man's face.

"Don't." she said softly. The assassin said nothing, and just pushed down harder on the dagger, this time with both hands.

"Don't make me do this." She said seriously as the dagger moved closer and closer to her face. The assassin didn't answer, and behind that faceless mask, Mira felt that the man's face was as determined as he was. The assassin pushed forward with one final burst of strength.

"Sorry." Mira said sincerely, and she pulled the trigger. The assassin's head jerked back as the bolt burned a smoking hole through his head. He fell backwards as Mira pushed him off of her. The corpse rolled onto its back like a rag doll and Mira sat up, breathing hard. Whoever was sending these guys wasn't messing around.

"But I was unconscious." She thought rubbing her temples. "Why would they try and assassinate me after I'd escaped? More importantly, why bring me out in the middle of a jungle?" Surveying her surroundings, she nobody who might have been with the assassin, then began rummaging through the corpses belt, searching for anything that might reveal where this he had come from. Removing the mask, Mira realized, to her shock, that the man beneath was the same blond guy who had shocked her unconscious while on the _Lucky Star._ Continuing her search, she found a small holodisk set into a projector and activated it. A distorted hologram jumped to life on the projector and a small quiet voice began speaking.

"First, infiltrate the _Lucky Star_, my apprentice. There, you will find a Jedi in hiding. Force her to reveal herself and then capture her. When she is within you're grasp, take her off the ship and to Myrkr. There, you will find your Force abilities removed due to a native species of lizard called Ysalamir. They create a bubble in the Force, an area where the Force is pushed back. This is a natural response that the Ysalamir gradually developed to fight against their predators, the Vornskr, which senses prey through the Force. If you kill the Jedi and manage to survive against the Vornskr, you will finally be worthy of the title Sith, and will take your place at my side in preparation for our revenge against the Jedi. We, the True Sith, will lead our Empire in the glorious retaking of the galaxy." The figure shimmered, and flickered away as the holo recording ended.

"_The True Sith_." Mira thought in amazement. "_I've stumbled across something bigger than me. This could rock the Republic if the True Sith invade. The Republic's already too weak to police its borders in peacetime_." Looking around quickly, Mira found the assassins hiding place and the tracks that he'd left from walking to his ship. Evidently, he hadn't worried about covering his tracks.

"_I've got to get this to the rest of the Jedi_." She thought, picking up her lightsaber and bag, she trotted into the woods. "_It sounds clique, but the fate of the galaxy could depend on it."_

* * *

About a mile or so in, Mira stopped, breathing hard. She hadn't had difficulty fallowing the assassin's trail, even without the Force. Still, these Ysalamir made her uneasy. She'd never heard of a creature able to push back the Force and had certainly never expected there to be so many in one area. Evidently, there was a limit to their range and the farther she seemed to get from that rickety makeshift prison, the better she could feel the Force. She noticed the Ysalamir were less dense out here and that she could begin to touch the Force again, which was good because the sun was falling and it was getting more and more difficult to see the assassin's tracks. Finally Mira reached out and grabbed the Force, pulling it around her, using it to sense the tracks beneath her feet. That wasn't all it sensed though.

Mira suddenly drew her pistol from her belt and fired into the dark, hitting a four legged dark furred animal that she could only assume was a, Vornskr in the right flank. It roared and leapt as Mira ignited her saber in her other hand. The orange fire burned through the Vornskr's body, killing it. Its tail however, continued to flash and a second later, Mira felt a fire running through her shoulder as the barbed tail spewed poison into her arm. Ripping the barb out, Mira opened her bag and began rummaging for the antitoxin she carried. Her arm was already numbing and, hoping that it would be effective against the Vornskr poison, she injected the syringe into her arm. The burning continued, but the numbing sensation began to dissipate as the antidote spread.

"_Barbed tails_." She thought annoyed. "_You'd think that would be something to mention in a description_." A second later, she sensed more Vornskr in the Force, circling her, using the darkness as cover. Reaching out, Mira could feel a break in the nature of the jungle, an area of steel and metal different from the rest. The assassin's ship, only about a hundred yards away. Igniting her saber and readying her blaster, Mira advanced slowly, feeling the Vornskr in the Force, waiting for they're attack. She made it about fifty yards before the two jumped out in front of her, intent on distracting her while the third hit her from behind. Mira smiled and turned, firing into the darkness. She felt the Vornskr stumble and hit the ground, peppered with blaster fire. She turned t deal with the other two and was surprised when she sensed a fourth falling right on top of her.

"_They're in the trees!_" she thought as she moved to the side and brought her saber up into the falling predator, splitting it in half. The other two were right on top of her, tails flashing at her as she jumped backwards and fired ineffectually. She whirled and sliced her saber through a tree, briefly creating a barrier between her and the two predators. They leapt over, right into the sight of Mara's pistol. She plugged a bolt into each of their heads and leapt out of the way as they crashed to the ground. There were more Vornskr out there, circling her, but she kept moving slowly through the brush. They were keeping their distance now, but more were gathering, ready to attack. Soon, they began to move in, just as Mira reached the clearing.

A _Herald_-class shuttle was nestled in the clearing, its exterior shining and new in the dark jungle. Mira rushed forward, closely pursued by three Vornskr. Reaching for a plasma grenade on her belt, she turned and, much too even the Vornskr's astonishment leapt forward and tackled it. She swung her saber, removing the sharp bard from the rest of the tail, then pulled out one of her adhesive grenades. The Vornskr was thrashing now and its companions, who had over shot them, were turning to attack. Taking the adhesive grenade and crushing it against the Vornskr's back, she then stuck the plasma grenade to the struggling predators back and leapt off. The other two Vornskr's turned to follow her and were joined by their pack member turned time bomb. Mira activated her wrist launcher, sending a cable flying towards the ship. With a sharp yank, she was pulled towards the lowered ramp of the ship as the plasma grenade behind her detonated.

The Vornskr were incinerated in seconds, engulfed in white hot flame. Mira let the cable pull her to the ramp, then stumbled onto the ship. Behind her, she could here Vornskr howling as they charged out of the woods. Mira quickly activated the ramp, shutting out their feral noises. She ran as quickly as she could to the pilot's seat and ignited the engines. There was no guarantee the Vornskr could chew through cables, but she didn't want to stick around to find out. As the shuttle rose, she looked down at the howling Vornskr and smiled as they roared over their missed meal.

She soon breached the atmosphere and began punching in coordinates for Coruscant. It would take at least a week before she would make it.

"Hello ma'am," a voice behind her said. Mira whirled and trained her blaster on the protocol droid behind her. "Would you care for a game of dejarik?" Mira stared at the droid, then burst into laughter. She continued laughing uncontrollably for several minutes while the droid waited patiently.

"Sure," she said getting to her feet. "I'll play a game. It's going to be a long trip."

**_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**


	5. Chapter 5 Coruscant

**_Thanks for reading. I have some great ideas in the works and I hope you continue to read and review!_**

Mira awoke with a start as the shuttle jerked out of hyperspace.

"Ma'am," the droid said in a polite voice. "We have arrived at Coruscant." Mira rolled out of bed with a groan and looked down at herself. She'd been wearing the same clothes for a week now and aside from the occasional freshening up in the sink had not bathed the whole trip. All in all, she felt like hell.

Mira still couldn't figure out why this droid was being so cordial to her, especially since she'd killed her master. Still, the droid had explained that his loyalty was to the ship, not who piloted it, and that anyone who could take it off that planet deserved being welcomed with open arms. So, they'd spent the past week together, playing dejarik and other strategy games on the ships holoboard. The droid was quite good. According to him, he had downloaded every strategy of every game known in the galaxy in order to better advise his former master.

"Still," the droid had said during a particularly fierce game, "I'm afraid I occasionally lose to organics such as you." He made a final move that effectively ended the game for Mira. She threw her hands up in rueful frustration and leaned back in her chair.

"I don't see how." She'd said making the only move she could, "If you know every move and how to counter it, playing you would be nearly impossible."

"Yes," he'd said taking her final piece, "But I'm afraid that my inability to think creatively has allowed skilled players to out maneuver me before. The move their pieces erratically in order to disrupt my logic, a flaw I have been unable to correct."

"Why tell me how to beat you?" Mira had asked resetting the board.

"Because, it still takes a very skilled player to beat me." He'd answered beginning his opening move. "You are not." Mira had taken that insult in stride. Maybe a few years ago she would have spaced that walking trash compactor, but her travels with the Exile had taught her, among many things, patience. She knew that strategy games were not her forte, and the droid was designed to be straightforward, a trait she admired.

Now, on approach to Coruscant, Mira let the droid guide the ship in as she moved to the communications uplink. Activating it, she watched as a Republic admiral flashed onto the screen.

"This is Admiral Carth Onasi of the Republic Defense Fleet to unidentified shuttle. What is your reason for approach?" The admiral was clean cut with short hair and an orange uniform jacket. His blue Mira had heard of the famous admiral Onasi. His travels and exploits under Revan were legendary and it was he who came to the aid of Telos when the Exile, Mira, and the rest of their group were desperately defending Citadel Station from the Sith Fleet.

"This is Mira, Jedi and former companion to the Exile." She said as professionally as she could, trying to instill urgency into her voice. "I have urgent news for the Jedi Council and Republic High Command. Please, divert me to the nearest landing and arrange for transport. Get as many high generals and Jedi as you can together and take me to them." Carth waited for a few moments, moving off-screen to discuss something with a few of his officers. A second later, he moved back, looking serious.

"Awfully demanding today, aren't we."

"Please," Mira said seriously, "This is extremely important. This is about a major threat to the Republic." Carth nodded and began sending coordinates to her ship.

"Very well, I've sent messages to the Council and High command. They will meet you within the temple. A taxi will escort you from the landing pad."

"Thank you admiral." She said switching the uplink off. She turned and sat back into the copilot's seat.

"What happens to me now?" the droid asked gently piloting the ship down towards the city.

"I suppose you're turned over to Republic Intelligence." Mira answered. "Sorry." The droid shrugged slightly, a weird gesture for a droid.

"That's life." The metallic voice said sarcastically.

"Huh," Mira thought. "Irony."

* * *

When Mira first saw the Jedi Temple, she was amazed by its size and grandeur. It was more majestic then anything she'd ever seen. The tall spires containing the various councils rose upwards from the large plateau- like base. It was truly majestic. Mira couldn't figure out how the Jedi were ever driven underground. Then she entered. The Force was strong here, but somehow, not as strong as she expected. The hallways were completely empty and devoid of people. Mira wandered about, letting the Force guide her up numerous stairs and lifts until she finally heard faint voices echoing down the hallway. She followed them and came across a classroom of students standing before a familiar face.

"As you can see," Bao-Dur said holding up an engine and pointing, "If you don't connect these two wires to the particle accelerator, there will be consequences."

"That how you lost your arm?" Mira questioned loudly from the back of the room. The students turned and stared in shock. They had varying ages, from teenagers to adults. Bao-Dur stared for a moment, then smiled slightly.

"Mira, it's good to see you." He said in his usual quiet voice. "I see you've managed to put on a pair of appropriate robes for the occasion. I can only imagine the circumstances that brought that about." She shrugged and smiled. She'd changed into the robes the Exile had given her before she entered the temple.

"Hey, I don't have anything else to wear right now. My jacket is kinda covered in blood." The student's eyes went wide at her words and a few of the older ones scowled at her morbidity. Bao-Dur eyes narrowed, but he just chuckled quietly.

"Students, this is Mira, one of the Jedi who fought alongside the Exile and me." He turned his head, looking at her curiously, "She's been out in the galaxy, and I'm assuming doing good deeds."

"You know me." She said grinning. "I just can't resist a good bar fight." Bao-Dur smile grew slightly.

"Class," he said addressing the students, "I'm afraid we are going to have to cut our lesson short today. I have a meeting with the Jedi council. You're dismissed." The students slowly left the room, some of them throwing curious glances at her. She waited until the last student had left and then followed Bao-Dur down the hallway.

"I'm assuming you got my message." She said briskly as the rushed down the hallway.

"Yes," Bao-Dur said seriously. "And the council is curious to see what could cause you to return. It must be serious."

"It is." Mira said. "Very serious. Possibly shattering."

"The Republic can't handle a crisis right now." Bao-Dur said worriedly, fingering the lightsaber beneath his robes. "We're almost recovered, but a single disaster in the wrong place could ruin all of that right now."

"I know." Mira said, "That's why I brought it to your attention. I'll tell you the details when we're with the council." Bao-Dur nodded and redoubled his stride, hurrying.

* * *

Mira stood nervously before the most powerful people in the Republic as they reviewed the hologram playing before them. The holodisk Mira had taken from the dead Sith was playing as the dark figure was revealing his plan to have her assassinated. The general's looked confused when the figure came to the part about the True Sith. Meanwhile, the Jedi looked horrified. The council was made up of the most senior Jedi of the rebuilding Order. Bastila, who had been in hiding till the destruction of Malachor, had become a senior member alongside Mical, Bao-Dur, Brianna, the former handmaiden, and Visas. They looked worried at the mention and when Carth Onasi, one of the admirals who was observing the meeting, asked what was wrong it was Mical who answered.

"The Jedi Kreia spoke of the True Sith before she died." He said. "She said that they were the leaders of a great Empire within the Unknown regions of space; that Malachor was only one of many outposts they used to man, and that they would one day remember these places, and come to take them back." There was silence as the meaning of his words sunk in. Then a young admiral cursed loudly.

"You mean the Sith we were fighting all along were fake!" He said outraged. "What was the point of the past years of fighting!?"

"The point," Carth said sharply, "Was to keep the Republic intact, and we're not about to let it fall apart now. Not on our watch." His voice seemed to put a determined resolve into the generals and admirals, giving them backbone.

"Regardless," He continued. "We can't have a war on our borders right now. Didn't Revan and the Exile leave to fight the True Sith?"

"Supposedly." Brianna said, "But who's to say they succeeded or that even they could stop the Sith advance."

"If the True Sith are searching for routes to the Republic," Bao-Dur said stroking one of his horns. "The best way to keep them from finding us would be to stop this spy of theirs from reporting. We have to find this Sith and capture him as soon as possible. If he manages to guide the True Sith to the Republic, we will be forced into a war."

"I agree," Carth said leaning forward. "But how do we find this man? No doubt he's concealed his location well."

"I think," Mira began slowly, "We're all avoiding the real question here."

"What do you mean?" Mical asked. Mira stepped forward to address the full congregation.

"It's not enough for us to just find this man and say, "well, he must be the only spy the True Sith sent. Problem solved". No, we have to find the True Sith before they find us. That way, if they do attack, we will be better prepared."

"And how do you propose to find the True Sith?" An elderly general said in an annoyed voice. Mical and the rest of the companions looked at Mira, the same question in their eyes.

"While you assemble a group to find and follow this man, I will find the True Sith, using what I know of this man who's trying to attack me. Then, I'll return and tell you all I find out about the True Sith, including the most likely way they could enter our space." She waited while the room stood in silence, every person mulling the idea over in their minds.

"It's a relatively sound plan." Carth said, "But how will you find them?"

"Mira was once a bounty hunter." Mical explained to Carth. "A very good bounty hunter." Mira nodded and explained her plan.

"I have a certain…ability within the Force that allows me to help find people through the Force. If anyone can find the Sith, I can."

"What's this ability?" Another admiral asked.

"I can listen for a person in the Force. If I focus hard enough, I can find where they are. For instance, I spent a lot of time with the Exile so, if I focus hard enough, maybe I can find where she went to fight the True Sith." This brought startled expressions to the Exile's Jedi companions. The idea of finding the Exile again was tempting to say the least.

"Could you find her?" Bao-Dur said quietly.

"Maybe not." Mira answered with a shrug, "Either way, if it led me to the True Sith, I would return and tell you where they could attack from. After all, they'd be limited to certain hyperspace lanes, right."

"Exactly." Carth said with some enthusiasm. "If you could find out how these True Sith mean to enter the Republic, we could be ready with a welcoming party."

"Yes, but let's not neglect this spy." Mical warned. "We should also attempt to apprehend him as soon as possible. If we manage to capture him, then perhaps we can avoid the conflict all together."

"Indeed," Carth said nodding, "I'll have a task force assembled to hunt down this man. With the intelligence we find in that shuttle, it shouldn't be too difficult to get a general idea of where to start." Gradually, the admirals and Jedi all nodded in agreement. As far as plans went, it was sound enough. Mira had been a part of worse ones.

"Very well." Mical said addressing the combined council. "Mira will begin searching for the Empire of the True Sith while Admiral Onasi creates a Task Force to hunt down this internal threat." He turned to the admiral.

"Is there anything we can provide? A few Jedi would help you find this man." Carth nodded and Mical turned, studying the old companions of the Exile.

"Bao-Dur," He finally said placing his hand on the Jedi, "Admiral Onasi will need your wisdom on this venture. Can you leave your students for a while?" Bao-Dur nodded and promptly left to gather his belongings. Meanwhile, Mira also began edging towards the door while the various admirals discussed plans for the search.

"Where are you going?" Brianna said, suddenly appearing at her side.

"You guys don't need me here." She answered continuing towards the outer hallway. "I'm going to meditate and see if I can get a feel for where the Exile is." Brianna nodded and followed her, matching her stride with Mira's.

"Before you go," she said in her usual serene voice, "There's something you should know."

"Yeah," Mira said, "What?"

"If you find Atton, you should take him along." Mira looked in surprise at Brianna, who just had this sad smile on her face. "He was devastated when the Exile left. I'm sure he would be overjoyed to find her again." Mira nodded and laughed grimly.

"With my luck, I will end up finding him now. Then, I'll have him tagging along." She groaned, turned, and continued down the hallway, leaving Brianna behind.


	6. Chapter 6 The Shield

**_Sorry it's taking so long, but the other story I'm writing that ties into this is taking a lot of my time. Still, I hope you enjoy this._**

The Jedi Temple, though reduced from its former vibrancy and glory, was still built upon the greatest Force nexus on Coruscant; possibly, the greatest in the whole, wide galaxy. Even amongst the lifeless metal and stone of the city planet, the Temple felt alive and unspoiled, like a small bud sprouting between the cracks of a street, a single beacon of light amongst the cold, dark steel. Within its meditation chambers, Jedi could focus their Force power to its maximum effectiveness, sensing the emotions of the entire planet and bring on visions of the future of the entire galaxy.

As Mira sat cross-legged in the center of one of the Temples many cubby like meditation rooms, she was finding it difficult to focus at all. Around her, Coruscant rumbled quietly. The flow and ebbs of city life called to her, inviting her, distracting her. Every time she shut her eyes to meditate, the emotions of the city would wash over her, engulfing her mind in emotion. She tried to reach out across the plain of the Force, searching for the echo the Exile had left, trying to find and follow it. It wasn't like when she'd used it on Nar Shadda to search for bounties and missing persons. That was a couple million or billion people, give or take. She'd been able to easily feel her targets through the Force, letting it guide her to their location. This though…

"It's like finding a damn dinko in a hawkbat swarm." Mira thought angrily. She'd been there for two days, taking breaks only when hunger or sleep overtook her. From that little room though, her mind traveled the stars. She reached out, farther and farther across the reaches of space, searching for the Force signature of the powerful Exile. "She shared a bond with all of us. She can't be this hard to find."

Then, a flash amongst the dark emptiness, a brief roar of flame stifled by the endless darkness of space. Mira's eyes snapped open and she stood up. Somewhere out there, deep within the Unknown regions, a faint yet familiar signature in the Force emanating just beyond the Lehon System. The Lehon System was where the Star Forge had once orbited the Rakata home world, Lehon.

Mira knew that this system, strong in the Force as it was, would have maintained an imprint of the Exile's Force signature, even if it'd been years since she'd last been there. The fact that she could sense the Exile, even minimally, was a good reason to start there. She stood and reached for her comlink while striding towards the hallway.

"Bao-Dur." She said into the comlink. "I got a brief flash through the Force while meditating. The Exile is somewhere beyond the Lehon system, in the Unknown Regions." There was a pause on the other end. Then, Bao-Dur's voice crackled through.

"Are you sure Mira? Remember, the goal is finding the True Sith, not the Exile. Do you think that is where we should start?" Mira thought for a bit, not entirely sure whether she could trust her instincts when the lives of many were on the line.

"Yes." She finally said. "Do you want me to try and head out there?"

"Yes," Bao-Dur said, "The sooner we locate this threat, the better. Brianna is already on the trail of that spy. The droid you captured proved to be a wealth of information. She and the Republic task force are on their way to capture him."

"Where is he?"Mira asked. She'd kinda wanted to take care of him herself, as un-Jedi as it sounded.

"Somewhere in the Outer Rim territories." He said, "Evidently, he's somewhere on Tatooine, probably in Mon Espa. Why?" Bao-Dur's voice was suspicious, as though he suspected her desire to flash freeze the kriffing Sith.

"No reason." She said, keeping her voice calm and easy. "Just curious."

"All right, here's your mission." Bao-Dur's voice grew light, as though one could hear the gentle smile on his face. "Ironically, your first temple sanctioned mission. Excited?"

"Like a Hutt at an ugly buffet." She said in a surly voice. She continued down the hallway, coming to one of the many open terraces of the Temple. "What is it?"

"You're going to tag along with an _Inexpugnable_-class tactical command ship called the _Shield_. You're going to discretely enter the Unknown Regions, and locate hyperspace lanes by which the True Sith could invade, and report back."

"Who's in command?" She asked. "Someone good I hope. I'm no commander."

"Admiral Halsei." Bao-Dur answered. "He's a young Admiral, but graduated top of his class. Should be up to snuff." Mira nodded, despite the fact Bao-Dur couldn't see the gesture.

"When am I going to be picked up?" She said. At that moment, a roaring from above her caught Mira's attention. She looked up and saw a _Conductor_-class shuttle swooping down low over the terrace, coming to rest at a hover next to the railing.

"Now." Bao-Dur said.

* * *

The _Shield_ was one of the Republics few _Inexpugnable_-class tactical command ships left in reserve. It was a carrier class ship, circular in shape and bristling with turbolaser batteries and point defense laser cannons. Its hangers contained several squadrons of sleek republic fighters and its bridge was located in the center of its circular shape, surrounded by its defenses. Mira took this all in as the small shuttle shot towards the massive ship.

"Is this it?" She asked the pilot, a middle-aged man in a orange republic uniform. "Can't they spare anymore ships?" The man shook his head as the shuttle zipped into the hanger.

"Don't know why." He grumbled. "The Republics almost at peace for the first time in years. And the _Shield's_ supposed to be a support craft, not a battle line ship." As the ship settled for the landing, the pilot signaled for Mira to go ahead and jump out, saying he still had another trip to Coruscant before they left. Mira jumped out and was greeted by a man he assumed was Admiral Halsei. He was a young man, only in his twenties. He had what could only be described as a dashing smile and held himself at a loose attention, grinning every set of his white teeth.

"Welcome to the _Shield_ ma'am." He said holding out his hand for a handshake. Mira took it, a little hesitant. The man turned, waving his hand at the set of Republic officers behind him. "And this is our command crew. Here's my second command, Alamen Mothma." A weathered old man who looked to be in his seventies or nineties, stepped forward, scowling a little as he did.

"He will be commanding the small landing force we are bringing with us." Halsei continued. He then proceeded to introduce Mira to the rest of the commanders. They treated her with something of a cross between awe and wariness. After all, she was one of the Jedi, their old commanders, but the Jedi also seemed to always bring Sith, their old foes. After introducing herself to the soldiers, they sat at attention, as if waiting for her to speak. She had not expected this. After all, she was no politician.

"I am Jedi Mira." She began, flashing the officers her cockiest grin. "Our mission is classified. Nobody here will be allowed to contact anybody outside of the ship. No family members, no friends." The officers took this in stride, eyes staring straight ahead.

"In return, you will all be able to experience mind numbing months floating through space in search of a powerful enemy that we're not even sure exists. And, you get to enjoy my presence throughout that time. You all still want to come?" None of the officers moved. Mira grinned again.

"All right then. To your stations." The officers clicked their heels, and filed out of the room.

"Not exactly inspiring." Admiral Halsei said. "But, I think they got the message. So, where do we begin our search?" Mira told him the coordinates. Upon hearing them, Alamen looked surprised.

"I recall fighting in that system during my younger days." He said a little coldly. "Against the Star Forge." Mira nodded. She'd heard the stories of Revan's journey and the final battle around the Star Forge.

"You are correct commander." Mira said, flashing another grin, "And that is going to be our starting point. From there we will enter the Unknown regions and search for our targets." The two men looked at each other, and then nodded.

"We will have to make one quick stop before we depart ma'am." Halsei said crisply, "We are to rendezvous with a ship, but it is on our way to Lehon. Is that acceptable?" Mira looked at him, and nodded warmly.

"Admiral, I want to make something clear. This is your command, not mine. You have the experience. I'm just along to show you the way, so if I'm making a tactical error, you have orders to remove me from command. Am I clear." The two officers looked at each other, a little surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

"Yes ma'am." They said in unison.

* * *

Brianna and her squad moved quickly through the streets of Mos Espa. The inhabitants of the gritty city fled whenever they came near. No doubt many of them had come to the backwater planet to escape Republic detection. The sight of the burly Republic marines charging through the streets no doubt worried many of them.

Still, Brianna had made her orders clear. Take the Sith operative only. No need to have the whole city up in arms. Gripping her sleek little pistol, Briana signaled for the marines to follow her. They trotted down the streets, heavy rifles scanning, until they came to one of the many small hovels that lined the street.  
Reaching out with the Force, Brianna felt for life within the structure. She felt two life forms, both tense and angry. The enemy.

"Get ready." She shouted over her shoulder. Reaching out with the Force, she gripped the door in a powerful Force grip, pulling on it. Behind her, the marines steadied their weapons, taking careful aim at the door.

With a powerful burst of the Force, the door flew inwards, crashing into the room. Igniting her lightsaber, Briana led her men into the room, saber deflecting a torrent of blaster fire from their two assailants. One of the men fell, his arm a stump where one of the marines had blasted him. The other stumbled a second later, stomach burned open by his own deflected blaster bolt. He groaned in agony and two of the marines moved quickly to drag him from the hovel for medical attention.

Brianna moved towards the one with a missing arm. Using the force, she stemmed the bleeding in her arm, gripping the ends of her veins shut. The Republic needed at least one of them alive. After all, they could provide some info as to the location of the True Sith.

"What do you know of the True Sith?" She asked bluntly, using the Force to coerce the man to speak. He looked up at her, and for a moment, they locked eyes. Brianna thought they looked familiar. Then, the man smiled, raised his good arm, and pulled a small switch from his shirt.

"Praise the True Sith!" He screamed, arching his head back in a terrible scream. "The Sith will rise again!"

"_Oh no!"_ Brianna though, turning to her marines. Raising her hands, pointing one at the ululating man and the other at the remaining marines within the house, she let lose a powerful burst of the Force. The marines yelled in shock as they were thrown backwards, bursting through the packed-mud walls of the hovel.

At that moment, the man clicked the switch, and a tornado of fire engulfed Brianna.


	7. Chapter 7 New Jedi

**_All right. Chapter 7. Enjoy_**

The _Shield_ was not exceptionally fast, so it would take some time for the carrier ship to make its way through hyperspace. So, Mira decided to pass the time in her quarters doing what she did best; tinkering with the various gadgets and explosives that she had on her. One project she had was to add a cable launcher to her wrist launcher. At the very least, it would make for a useful tool for climbing stuff.

As she was just finishing some of her adjustments, a heavy knocking sounded behind her. She slid the door open with the Force, not really bothering to look at who it was. She could sense the fuming resentment for her a mile away.

"Evening commander Mothma." She said cordially, trying to sound as friendly as possible to the scowling soldier. "What brings you out here?" The spindly man stepped forward. Mira noticed he no longer had the straight backed demeanor, though his scowl seemed to have actually deepened.

"Permission to speak, ma'am?" He said formally. Mira nodded, turning from her work to better hear the man. "Ma'am, I would like to know what it is that we are looking for. I served at Lehon; I know it's a dead world. So, why are we beginning our search there?" Mira paused. Revan was famous throughout the Republic, as was his story. Mira supposed it was only a matter of time before the whole crew made the connection.

"You probably have already realized that this mission has something to do with Revan." She began quietly. The commander paused, then nodded.

"I commanded a battleship during the battle around the Star Forge. I remember the victory and the celebration afterwards. I also remember how Revan left and how the Jedi began falling soon after. How they gradually died off at the hands of assassins. How powerful they were. Compared to them, you are merely a padawan." The man paused, and then laughed grimly. "Actually, not even a padawan. One of them would be worth ten of you new Jedi." He stopped again, this time clearly finished. The soldier stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back.

"Well," Mira began, a little unsure of how to answer that. She should have been angry, but there was too much truth in his words. "I'm very disappointed to hear that, particularly from such an experienced soldier as yourself. I never claimed to be as powerful or skilled as the old Jedi, but I don't see what this has to do with our mission."

"Because," Mothma said through gritted teeth, "Revan went into the Unknown Regions, and disappeared. If the greatest of the Jedi didn't return, why should you make a difference?" With a snap of his boots, the commander turned and walked from the room without waiting to be dismissed. Mira let him go. After all, he was right.

The old Jedi had been powerful warriors, great scholars and, wise diplomats. The new Jedi Order, as far as she could tell, was not only small, but inexperienced. Again, Mira found herself wondering why the Exile had left them. Why she had not stayed to train her new order? She had the most experience. Instead, she'd left their order to float like a leaf unguided in a stream.

"_Well,"_ Mira thought grimly as she turned back to her work. "_It's not like any of that matters now. A few months, and we will have found the Exile. She'll know what-" _

Mira's thoughts were interrupted as an explosion of pain burst through her mind. It tore through her and Mira desperately threw up barriers around her mind like the Exile had taught her, blocking out the feeling of agony and shock.

"_Brianna!"_ Mira thought, desperately crawling to her feet. She stumbled and crashed into her workstation, unable to think through the pain.

"_Calm yourself Mira."_ A voice said in her head. Mira looked around for a moment, unsure where the voice was coming from.

"_It's all right, Mira. It's me."_ The voice said again. It was lighthearted, as if the speaker were constantly laughing at some unseen joke. Mira's mind suddenly seemed to peel back, and instead of deflecting the pain, it seemed to travel through her smoothly.

"_Easy, Mira."_ The voice said again, soothing her.

"Exile?" She said aloud wonderingly. The pain was subsiding now and whatever presence that had entered her mind was slowly fading. But, before it dropped away completely, Mira heard a faint, almost whispery laugh.

* * *

"What happened?" Bao-Dur asked standing outside of the med center. Inside, Brianna was floating buoyantly in a tank filled with kolto. Her eyes were flickering slightly, as though she was drifting in and out of consciousness. Bao-Dur turned to the burly marine standing beside him making his report.

"One of the insurgents detonated an explosive. Took down the building and almost our whole squad. If Master Brianna hadn't pushed us out of the way…" He faded off, clearly not wishing to even contemplate what that carnage might have looked like.

"Naturally, we began administering medical treatment to her as soon as we got a hold of her." The marine continued. "Still, I don't understand how she could have survived the blast. I mean, she was standing right next to the man."

"The Force." Bao-Dur said with his gentle smile. "She must have used the Force to deflect most of the blast away from herself."

"You can do that?" The marine said, mystified.

"Sometimes." Bao-Dur answered. He got up and began heading for the door of Brianna's room. "Still, it's good that you were there to help her. She would have died within minutes without your assistance." The marine's chest seemed to puff out as he snapped a proud salute at Bao-Dur and walked away. He smiled. The men in the fleet had clearly come to like him. After all, his quiet voice was much better than a screaming drill sergeant.

Bao-Dur made her way through the infirmary to Brianna's bed. Her face was heavily bandaged, and left side of her face was completely obscured. Still, Bao-Dur knew that the skin underneath would have looked much worse.

"Hey Brianna." He said softly. Her face turned to him and her one eye that was not covered looked up at her in surprise.

"Ah," Her normally tough voice whispered faintly. "How are you my old friend?" She looked down at her body lying in the hospital bed.

"Guess I should have stayed in the library, huh."

Bao-Dur smiled at her. "Nah. You saved those men's lives. If it weren't for you, we would never have captured the other man. I'm sure he will provide us with some information regarding our attacker." Brianna nodded. It had quickly become obvious that they had been led on a wild goose chase, meant to distract them. These men had been waiting for them after all.

"Will he talk?" Brianna asked, letting her eyes shut. Bao-Dur's smile fell.

"It doesn't really look like it." He said, sitting down in a meditative stance next to her bed. "He seems to be on the verge of insanity, raving about city ships and monsters." Bao-Dur's head hung low. He felt terrible, having to tell Brianna that her sacrifice may have been a waste. Still, her face would heal. He knew that. A combination of kolto and Force regeneration would make her good as new. It was the scars that would plague the galaxy that he worried about.

* * *

Mira stood in the hanger of the ship, awaiting the shuttle that would supposedly bring supplies and new arrivals to the _Shield_. They had made the rendezvous in good time. Supposedly, Admiral Onasi had made some last minute arrangements to give them a last minute supply drop and an extra drop crew of marines. Evidently, he expected them to run into trouble.

What he did not mention was the unusual pair that had tagged along with the battalion of marines. One was a blue skinned Twi'lek who looked like she was in her twenties or thirties. She was clad like some kind of smuggler in a thickly padded jacket and a long pair of flight suit pants. She was arguing with another creature, one that made Mira grip her lightsaber tighter in her hand.

It was a meter tall alien covered from head to foot in shaggy fur. The alien, he heard one of the marines call it a wookie, had a pair of long blades strapped to a belt that ran round its waist and a strange weapon that looked like an archaic crossbow. Mira had seen this type of alien before. It was the same as her old nemesis Hanharr. Everything about him, from the strange gait of his walk to his towering form, reminded her of the years she'd spent fleeing for her life.

"_No."_ She thought as the pair approached her. _"Not the same. Not the same at all. I left Hanharr on Malachor. This wookie is different." _She crushed down the instinctive panic that was rising in her throat. Hanharr had chased her for so long that just seeing one of his species now made her nervous. Still, it looked like she was going to have to work with him, so it would not do to be prejudice.

"And I say, that I payed the last eight times, Big Z!" The Twi'lek girl said, jabbing her finger at the wookie's hairy chest. "And I had dragged your butt off Kashyyyk, so how about you start showing me some respect." The wookie growled good naturedly and barked muffled laugh. He turned and roared a guttural greeting at Mira. She winced slightly as he shook her hand in a powerful grip.

"He seems to like me." Mira said in a pained voice. The Twi'lek smiled at her.

"Yeah," She said looking at her companion. "He says he hasn't seen any Jedi in a long time. He also seems to be unsure if you really are a Jedi, judging by how you're dressed." She grinned at him and Mira looked down at herself. The girl had a point. The leather ballistic jacket wasn't quite what people had expected Jedi to wear. Still, she wasn't about to become some celibate monk over night.

"Yeah, well Jedi are pretty rare right now." She said, "So, guess you're stuck with me anyways."

"I guess." The Twi'lek answered with a happy smile. "But I like seeing the Jedi back to. My name's Mission Vao." She turned and patted the wookie on his broad shoulder. "And this guy's name is Zaalbar."

"A pleasure." Mira said, "So, why are you two tagging along on this trip?" The pair looked at each other. Zaalbar shook his head and barked something in his language. Mission nodded.

"We've got our own reasons for going." She said turning back to Mira. "We're old friends of Carth, I mean, Admiral Onasi. We fought together during the Jedi Civil War and he thought you could use some back up if things got hairy." Zaalbar roared in agreement. Mira nodded and smiled, though she felt she would have been enough for any situation. Still, the girl's sunny attitude must have been affecting Mira's own.

"Fine." She said, grinning back. "It will be an honor to have you with us."

* * *

Bao-Dur stood in the interrogation room alongside two Republic officers. They were hard at work on the deranged man, but had to be careful. After all, sometimes if men are pushed too hard, they can really snap, and this man seemed close enough already.

"Listen to me." One of the interrogators said forcibly. "Where is your boss?"

"Boss?" The man said, a wide smile on his face. "Boss?"

"Yes." The interrogator said again, "The man who hired you." The madman nodded in understanding. Then…

"Bossbosssbossbosss!" The man started yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs. "BOSSSS, BOSS, BOSSSS!"

"He get's like this whenever we question him." The head officer, a skinny man with a short pointed beard said. "He just plain goes off his rocker, yelling whatever pops into his head." Bao-Dur nodded, and stepped forward. The man in the chair stopped, his grin fading as the Jedi stepped forward and placed his palm on the man's brow.

Bao-Dur reached out in the Force, trying to feel what this man was feeling. After all, madness had to stem from something. Fear, pain, an injury of some sort. To the interrogators, it remained a mystery, but perhaps Bao-Dur could…

"There," He thought in surprise. "That's why."

"He's happy." He said aloud, turning to the interrogators. "Somebody has messed with the chemical makeup of his mind, making him insanely joyful."

"How?" One of the interrogators said, looking at his datapad that held all the information from the interrogation. "The medics said that they couldn't find any drugs in his system."

"Because it isn't drug induced." Bao-Dur continued. He brushed the man's bangs back, revealing the tiniest scar on his forehead. "Somebody committed surgery on this man. From what I sensed, the chemicals in his brain, those that control emotion, have been tampered with. His ventromedial prefrontal cortex."

"I thought that only affect a person's decision making." The head interrogator said.

"It's the only explanation." Bao-Dur countered. "That part of the brain limit's emotion and the chemicals within his brain that cause emotion. If it's been surgically altered to allow an overflow of chemicals causing happiness, than drugs wouldn't show up on your scanners. At the moment, he's in so much uncontrolled joy that it's causing him physical pain on the level of torture."

"I see." The interrogator said, smoothing his beard nervously. "That's why our pain killer drugs we put in him weren't having any affect. So he was like this when the marines enter the house?"

"No," Bao-Dur said, "That's what puzzles me. The only way I can imagine someone doing this is by putting a remote implant within the man's brain, one that he could activate upon capture. Maybe his partner activated it when he blew up that building."

"So, how do we fix it?"

"We can't." Bao-Dur answered shortly. "Not here, but I'll speak with Visas Marr. She is skilled in healing people. Perhaps with surgery, we could repair the man's mind."

"Won't that take a while sir?" The head interrogator asked.

"Wars are often marathons, not sprints." Bao-Dur said in a voice that screamed wise Jedi. "And I'm afraid we now find ourselves in another war."

**_Thanks to everybody for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoy the idea of putting a few of the older character's in._**


	8. Chapter 8 Atton

**_All Right, Part 8_**

Mira soon found that running a ship the size of the Shield was far more arduous than she'd expected. A large part of its hanger bay, once housing Republic fighters and bombers had been converted into a massive supply base as many expected this journey into the Unknown Regions to take some time. Food, medicine, and an endless supply of other necessities were all crammed into the compartments and hanger floors.

All of this had to be accounted for, something Mira found painfully arduous and mind numbingly boring. In fact, she'd been tempted many times to just let Commander Mothma take care of it, as he had repeatedly insisted, but continued doing the work herself, determined to make herself seem useful to the grizzled old veteran.

Meanwhile, Admiral Halsei seemed determined to show off every inch of his precious Shield. A carrier ship, the Shield had been modified as a deep space exploration vessel. This included replacing its light defenses placed around its two outstretched arms with eighteen batteries of heavy turbolasers and flak cannons. According to Halsei, he had personally trained the gunnery crews to maximum efficiency.

"Quantity over quality." He always said. "The faster we fire, the less chance they fire back."

The crew seemed to have come to respect her, with the sole exception of Mothma, who only grunted whenever she walked into the room. Mira suspected their new found respect had something to do with Mission and Zaalbar, both of whom had one of the prestigious Republic Medals of Valor on their belts. And Mission's bubbly personality seemed to be contagious, infecting even the gloomiest workplace of the ship. All the while, Zaalbar followed her around like a lost, loyal puppy, helping the crew with his colossal strength and skill with mechanical devices.

Today, standing on the bridge, Mira could feel the joy radiating off members of her engine room crew, laughing at some joke the young Twi'lek girl had made.

"_At least one of us is happy."_ Mira thought ruefully as she watched the streaks of stars shine through hyperspace.

"Admiral Halsei." She said, turning to the young admiral besides her.

"Yes ma'am." He said, snapping a salute.

"Go find Mission and Zaalbar. We're about to enter the Lehon system, and I'm guessing they'll want to see their old battlefield."Halsei nodded and snapped an order at one of his aides, who rushed off to find the young woman.

"Know where we are to jump next?" Halsei said as they both turned to the large star map in the center of the bridge.

"A general idea." Mira said. She activated a star map in the center of the bridge, pointing at a cluster of stars well beyond the Outer Rim. "There's where I felt the Exile's Force signature. Think of it as a long range beacon." Halsei looked at her uncertainly, as though bothered by what she said.

"That far out? I thought it was just beyond the Unknown Region, not deep in its heart."

"The True Sith would want to remain as anonymous as possible." Mira reasoned. "Besides, for all we know the Exile could be in the heart of the Empire, and we could hit their border long before we meet the Exile, which isn't what's important. Finding the Sith is." Halsei nodded and reluctantly returned to his work, clearly not convinced.

Mira didn't blame him. She had a talent for finding people, but not even she wanted to test her power by making virtually blind jumps through space. Still, she could practically see where they needed to go when she looked at the star map, as if a part of the unknown regions was highlighted in bright colors, calling to her.

The only problem with that was that you couldn't just point a ship in the direction you wanted to go and jump to hyperspace. Any attempt like that without accounting for debris, planet rotation, and other factors, would end in a high speed collision that would leave them in scattered atoms.

So, until they got closer, they could only make careful micro jumps from one system to another. It was a long and arduous process.

* * *

Bao-Dur watched as the Republic shuttle settled down on the dusty Tatooine ground, making many of the men surrounding it to look away from the cloud of dust. The shuttle settled, and Bao-Dur smiled as Visas Marr stepped gracefully from the ship, her red robes flapping about her ankles in the wind.

"Bao-Dur." She said, inclining her head slightly. "You summoned me."

"I did my old friend." He answered, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. "I'd like to say it was for a reunion, but I'm afraid I need your particular brand of healing."

"Very well." She answered. Then, her face fell a little. "By the way, I was about to leave Coruscant when somebody demanded he be allowed to come with us." Bao-Dur groaned.

"Don't tell me. It wasn-"

"Damnit!" A loud voice yelled from the ship. "Why doesn't anyone ever tell me what's going on!" Bao-Dur watched as Atton stumbled down the ramp of the ship, clearly very, very drunk.

"He, ahhh, kinda insisted that I bring him along." Visas said, moving closer to whisper in his ear. "He's a little messed up, but he heard about Brianna and wanted to come."

Bao-Dur nodded and stepped forward, holding out a hand for his old friend.

"It's been a long time Atton."

Atton roughly pushed his hand out of the way, and bumped past him.

"Where is Mira?" He asked in a slurred voice. "Where is the _Shield_?"

Bao-Dur looked at Atton in surprise, but nodded. "You hacked the Republics communications."

"Of course." He answered, looking at Bao-Dur sourly. He stepped forward, picking him up by the collar. "And I know she's out looking for the Exile. Now, you're going to tell me where they are. Now!"

"All right, all right." Bao-Dur said, raising his hands in surrender. "But first, you'll have to do me a favor."

"What?" Atton said reluctantly. "You know I hate Jedi and their schemes."

"Oh, shut up Atton." Bao-Dur growled irritably. "You're a Jedi too now, and we need everyone we can get now that Brianna is…well, you two should see for yourself. " Turning away, Bao-Dur led the pair into the infirmary set up by the Republic marines. Inside, two beds were set up, one for their prisoner, and one for the wounded Jedi Master.

She was lying on her back at the moment, clearly trying to meditate and focus on her healing. It wasn't instant, but the burns on her body were gradually receding, replaced with fresh pink skin. Yet, this fresh skin was only seen in a few patches across her body. The rest was either crisping and flaking off, revealing bone underneath.

"By the Force." Visas gasped quietly.

"Damn it." Atton cursed, just loud enough for them to hear. He no longer seemed very drunk. "What happened?"

"There was a bomb in the building we were investigating." Bao-Dur explained. "We were chasing a spy, and we believe he destroyed the building to cover his tracks. Plus, one of the men we captured seems to have a…device implanted in his brain, meant to keep the man quiet."

"Like what device?" Atton said, a small look of realization dawning on his face.

"It drove him insane." Bao-Dur answered. "Altered the chemicals in his brain to create uninhibited emotion." The Iridorian turned to Visas now. "I was actually hoping you could use your skill with healing to restore some of his sanity, so we could question him."

"Don't bother." Atton grumbled, rubbing his forehead as he went into a crouched position. "I know this device."

Visas and Bao-Dur looked at Atton in surprise.

"What do you mean?" Bao-Dur asked.

"It's a neural implant that the Sith attached to all their spies and assassins." Atton answered, tentatively feeling the back of his own head gingerly. "Including me. It completely wipes your brain in case of capture or betrayal. However, only high ranking officials had access to that kind of tech."

"With most of the Sith Lords dead, would it be difficult to get a hold of such tech?"

"Yes." Atton answered. "Remember, I know more about the Sith Empire than anyone else here. Trust me, to activate tech like this, you'd have to be able to use the Force and have known the higher up Sith personally."

So," Visas said in her whispery voice, "How come you aren't a raving lunatic?"

"I-I removed mine." He said, turning his head to the side and brushing his brown hair out of the way. "Not one of my better ideas, but I managed to rip it out before the Sith could activate it. After that, I escaped."

Bao-Dur watched, mesmerized by the long knotted scar on Atton's head. He had clearly cut deep into his scalp, carving deep into his head. The amount of concentration, discipline and sheer guts it would take to do that…It was unbelievable.

"So, that's how you lost escaped." Visas said, impressed. "You've obviously sacrificed a lot to maintain your sanity."

"Not as much as others." Atton murmured coldly to himself. "Still, the fact remains; whoever is manipulating this is obviously a high ranking member of the Sith. Perhaps not a Lord, but someone who was high rankning in their intelligence staff."

"An assassin." Visas agreed, looking at Bao-Dur. "It was the way they destroyed the Jedi before, striking from the shadows. Perhaps they mean to do the same, except this time bring the True Sith Empire into their war." Atton looked surprised for a moment, and Bao-Dur realized that he must have not gleaned everything from his little foray into their communications array.

"True Sith?" He said, looking at Visas with raised eyebrows. "You're kidding I hope?"

"I'm afraid not." Bao-Dur said, pulling his lightsaber out and twisting it between his hands. "According to Master Mical, the histories say that the Sith fled the galaxy long ago. The Sith we fought merely followed Sith tenets."

"Yes, and if they manage to ally with the True Sith…" Atton trailed off, letting their imagination fill the rest. It wasn't hard. Sith Starships firing down on Coruscant, the people fleeing, only to be cut down by Sith troopers. The Temple being stormed by a horde of crimson wielding Sith. The Masters, the young knights. The Younglings.

"We simply won't let that happen." Bao-Dur said firmly. "Once Mira has found where the True Sith lie, we will decide what to do about them. Until then, all we can do is search for this assassin. And for that, we need you Atton."

He looked at him, watching the thoughtful indecision flash across his face. Worry radiated from him. Like Mical, he had loved the Exile, and the need to follow her ran strongly in both of them. Still, Mical at least had the Order to devote himself to. He had a life beyond the Exile. For Atton, his life before the Exile had been meaningless drunkenness and killing.

His hands shook as he held a lightsaber clasped to his belt, one of two the Exile had given him during their travels. Besides them, a pair of blasters rested in their holsters. He was proficient with both types of weapons, but beyond his skill with them, his real talent, his real talent that would reveal this spy, was his skill at subterfuge. As an ex-spy of the Sith, he could out hack, out spy, and out think this man.

"I will find this man." Atton finally said confidently. "But I have to go alone. Give me a ship and some time, and I will bring you this spy."

"Why alone?" Visas asked, suspicion entering her voice.

"Just trust me." Atton said. "It's better that I do all the dirty work. You guys need to stay the happy clean faces for the Senate and future Jedi. Me…I can handle the stuff behind the scenes."

Bao-Dur considered Atton's proposal. On the one hand, Atton was right. The fragmented order couldn't afford to be caught with its hands in black ops stuff. People hated them enough as it was. On the other hand, Atton sounded like he was walking down a dangerously dark road.

"Very well." Bao-Dur nodded quietly. "But be careful Atton. I sense a long hard road for us all, especially for you."

"Pu-leeez." Atton said, adjusting his jacket. "Nothing wrong with a little darkness."

"Yes." Visas said, feeling the cloth covering her empty eyes sockets. "But a lot can kill you."


	9. Chapter 9 Lehon

**_Okay, this one had a long hiatus, but It's definatley back on. _**

**_P.S. One of the next chapters will have a 10 or 9 month skip, during which Mira will record what happens on a holocron. This is to prevent boredom and give the readers the best info in a short amount of time._**

Mira stood on the deck of the _Shield_, surveying the Lehon system with an interested eye. "Is that where the Star Forge was?" She asked Mission, pointing through the wreckage of the battle towards the orbit of the blue planet.

"Yes." Mission said, looking up at Zaalbar, who roared in agreement. "That's where the Star Forge orbited. That was…A long time ago. Now, look at all that wreckage."

"Left over from when the Sith and Republic fleets engaged each other." Halsey explained, still standing at a crisp attention in his uniform. "My father was in that engagement, commanding a _Foray_-class blockade runner."

Mira spared a glance at the young admiral. He was obviously skilled to have earned a rank like admiral at his age. He could only have been in his late twenties at most, and still had a youthful look to his face. Still, his eyes were hard and intelligent. Halsey obviously had the guts and glory attitude all naval officers needed.

"He died well." Mothma added, eyes staring off into the distance. "I remember trying to blast my way through too his wreckage, to pick up survivors." He fell silent, as did the rest of the crew in remembrance of all those who died stopping the Sith. Mira knew he'd also participated in the battle, back when he was younger.

"Right," Admiral Halsey finally said, breaking everyone's trance. "We don't have time to reminisce. I want fighter's scouting this area for enemy ships, then a long range communiqué set up for Coruscant. With luck we'll manage to relay our next known coordinates." Halsey stopped, turning to Mira. "After you have found our next destination."

Mira nodded. "I will do my best, but in the mean time, let's search the planet in addition to the space around it. Perhaps the Exile or Revan left clues for us to follow."

Zaalbar ruffled his hair, barking in what sounded like disagreement.

"Z says that would be a bad idea." Mission translated, leaning against her hairy companion. "Actually, I agree. The natives down there are…ornery."

"Still," Mira said insistently, "If Revan has hidden a signpost to the True Sith on that planet; he wouldn't have left it in the open. Besides, maybe he hid it with the Rakata."

"It's possible." Halsey admitted, turning to Mothma, "What do you think Commander?"

"Let me take a platoon down, along with the wookie and girl. I'll scout around, pick up some natives and see whether they know anything."

"Hold on a minute!" Mission interrupted, indignantly stamping one of her feet. "How is it Zaalbar and I, the two who are smart enough to not want to go down there, are the ones going down there." She then turned to Mothma, and kicked the old man in his shins. He hopped up and down, clutching his shin as he spat curses. "Oh, and this girl has a name."

Mira watched the slightly comical scene, grinning as Mission and Mothma stared each other down. The two were alike now that she thought of it; stubborn and independent. At that moment, Mira decided she liked Mission quite a bit.

"All right." She intervened, stepping between the two. "I agree with Mission; it's too dangerous for us to send troops down there."

"Thaaaank you." She said, stretching her mockery out. She impishly stuck her tongue out at the aging commander, but Mira wasn't done.

"However, I also think we need to at least investigate the surface. So, Mission, Zaalbar," Mira turned to the duo, "You two are going down with me."

"Excuse me?" Mission cried, "Again, why is it Zaalbar and I are being sent down when we were the ones against going in the first place?"

"Because, you've been there before, unlike me." Mira stated, "And I need somebody to show me the way down there. If, as I sense, both Revan and the Exile passed this way on their way to the Unknown Regions, then perhaps they left clues for us."

"That seems likely." Mothma agreed with a slight nod of his head. "Of course, if he has, it will be difficult to find. Revan always was very cunning."

Mira considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, but if I can just get a glimpse of Revan or the Exile's Force signature on anything on the planet, I may have a better chance of finding them." Mira looked at them all, then shrugged. "At the very least, it will give me a chance to stretch my legs."

* * *

The small Republic shuttle carrying Mira and her companions down was buffeted by strong winds the moment it hit the atmosphere. At the controls, Mothma growled a few angry words before jerking his joystick and pulling the ship below the clouds. The commander had insisted on coming, and for some strange reason, Mira found herself agreeing. At the very least, the old man could handle heavy weapons in a pinch.

"Prepping landing gear." Mothma announced as their ship dove, then snapped back up. Its nose leveled as its landing struts whirred into place and the ship hit the dirt with a bump.

"All right." He said unstrapping himself from the pilots seat and stepping into the rear cargo hold where Mira, Mission, Zaalbar, and a pair of republic guards named Shang and Cole. Shang and Cole wore the standard Republic uniform and carried blaster rifles, while Mothma had armed himself with a vibroblade and a hand blaster. Zaalbar and Mission had also come heavily armed, Mission with a blaster rifle that looked too big for her and Zaalbar with his twin vibroblades and a bowcaster. Even Mira had picked up her lightsaber on the way out and had holstered a blaster pistol into her belt.

"_No point in taking risks_." She'd thought grimly before leaving. True, the mission was supposed to be an in and out mission. No hard contact with the locals, just snooping around and seeing if Mira could get a sense for the Exile or Revan.

Their little squad began trucking out immediately, leaving their shuttle camouflaged by foliage. The planet was obviously very warm, almost tropical. It had a number of beaches closely bordered by tall cliffs that had a few very narrow passes cut through them, and was dotted with tropical trees that waved gently in the breeze.

As they continued, hugging the rocky shoreline and carefully picking their way through the underbrush. Shang and Cole had taken point, each sweeping the area as they aimed down the sights of their blasters, arguing as they did as soldiers often did to blow off steam. In their curved helmets, they looked professional, but Mira sensed they were young, no older than her for sure.

"Should be around here somewhere." Mission murmured to herself as she clambered atop a rock jutting from the sand. She shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting into the distance.

"What should be where?" Mothma growled from the rear.

"The Rakata village." Mission stated simply. "If we know where it is, we can give it a wide berth and make sure we don't run into any of their patrols."

"Okay," Shang said, calling over his shoulder, "But then why are we even down here? I mean, seems like a waste of-" He stopped as Cole leaned over and elbowed his friend in the ribs, shutting him up.

Mira was well aware of the problem keeping the crew of the _Shield_ ignorant of their mission. Of course, Mothma knew, and Mission, Zaalbar, and Halsey. But aside from that, nobody had any idea they were searching for Revan. Mira scoured her mind, searching for an excuse that seemed valid. Luckily, she was saved having to think on the spot by Mothma.

"Eyes front marines." He barked from his position at the rear of the column. "Stay sharp. Our jobs to keep a lookout, not gab about our mission." The soldiers fell silent, now focused entirely on their jobs. Mothma was obviously as fearsome as his reputation indicated. He was one of the hardboiled veterans of the Jed-Sith War, and a man who had survived countless battles with them and served under Revan himself. If Mira was going to have to fight her way into their empire, she'd need him to do it.

"Still, I wonder where the natives are." Mission whispered to Mira so the rest couldn't hear. "I really don't understand. The Rakata were all over the place last time we were here, attacking us with spears and ambushing us."

"Don't know, don't care." Mira murmured, shifting her right hand down to the blaster at her hip. "But I'm glad they aren't. "

"Yeah." Mission agreed, hands shifting nervously on her blaster rifle. "But I really don't like it. It's too-"

"I swear by Revan's name," Mothma growled, "If you say it's too quiet, I will throw you into that ocean."

"Fine." Mission crossed her arms, pouting. "But don't blame me when we're-"

"Ambush!" Shang yelled, dropping to the ground. Cole dropped as well, but he had a long spear rising from his body. Shang cursed and fired with one hand as he grabbed his comrade, pulling him over and checking his vitals. A second later, a second spear flew from the cliffs above and buried itself deep into Shang's leg.

"Everybody, find cover!" Mothma barked, already raising his heavy repeater and spraying the tops of the cliffs with blaster fire. "Mission, you and Zaalbar try and raise the _Shield_."

"On it." Mission cried, pulling the long range comlink off of Zaalbar's back. "It'll take a few moments to get calibrated though."

"Well, hurry it up." Shang yelled from his position along the cliff side, still attending to Cole's wounds. "He'd bleeding out faster than I can patch him up."

"Can you move him?" Mira asked as she aimed her blaster pistol towards the rocky cover above her, dropping one of the natives with a Force aided shot.

"I think so." He said, pulling the Rakatan spear from his leg. "Should we move to better cover?"

"Assuming that this isn't just a patrol and is a full blown ambush," Mothma said, "We'd better find a place to hole up and hold them off until extraction. Mission, how's contact coming?"

"Nothing yet." She said, holding the comlinks earpiece to her ears. "Something's blocking it. Moving might help." Mothma nodded, and turned to help Shang move their comrade. A second later, he stopped, clutching his shoulder. Mira leapt forward, catching him before he hit the ground. Another volley of spears was already coming towards them. Desperately, she threw his body aside and reached for the Force. She found it, molded it in her hands and felt it shoot out from her palm as she raised her hand. The spears fell to the side as if brushed away by a massive hand.

"Go!" She yelled, drawing her lightsaber in one hand and her blaster in another. The blade ignited in orange flame as she pressed the activator. The pass before their little group was now full of Rakata, each wielding a long spear. It was at this time Mira got her first good look at them.

They were peculiar aliens, with deep blue skin covered by crude garments that matched their spears. Their eyes stared forward, but from stalks that were mounted on the sides of their very triangular heads. They had jagged teeth in their wide mouths, and seemed

Mira took a fighting stance, watching as Mothma and Shang carried Cole back behind her, Mothma firing into the horde as they ran. Mission and Zaalbar had also packed up, already setting up their communicator in a rocky alcove along the seashore.

"Let's go." Mothma yelled, grabbing Mira's shoulder and spinning her around. "Fall back to the rocks."

Mira couldn't agree more. Firing as they ran, Mira and Mothma ran, attempting to outrun the solid mass of spears. One caught up and came within stabbing distance. Mira whirled, caught his spear as he thrust at her, and pulled him into a carefully aimed elbow at his face. The alien fell back, letting the spear go. Mira held onto it, holstering her blaster as she did. No point in wasting power packs.

"We're did they all come from?" Mothma yelled over the roar of his repeater. "One second it's quiet, the next-"

Zaalbar roared and barked, dropping a charging Rakata with his bowcaster.

"Z says the Rakata are all around us. He can smell them."

"And what was wrong with his nose before?" Shang yelled from his prone position behind the rocks. He was trying to get a semi conscious Cole to respond. The soldier was groggy, his eyes flashing in and out of focus. Shang had carefully bandaged his chest and applied a medkit, but he needed real attention.

"I don't know." Mission yelled back angrily. She ducked lower as spears flung from above clattered against the rock walls around them. "I really hate these guys!" She screamed, aiming a careful blast that caught one of the Rakata in its eyestalk.

"Well," Mira said, using her own blaster pistol to intercept and deflect a spear that had been hurtling towards Shang. "At least it can't get much worse."

At that moment, there was a ferocious roar from the opposing end of the pass, and the Rakatan who had clambered down into the pit to battle them hand to hand nimbly began scrambling out as quickly as their limbs would carry them.

"I have a bad feeling about this." Mission and Mothma said in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.

"Wow," Mira growled drily, still staying crouched behind the rocks as the Rakata on the cliffs were still standing at the ready. "I don't suppose either of you are Force sensitive?"

Zaalbar made a waffling sound, then pointed with one hairy paw towards the end of the pass.

"Big Z says he can smell something different coming." Mission translated, hurrying next to Mira. "Something big."

"How can he tell?" She whispered curiously. Mission shrugged.

"He says it's a big smell."

At that moment, a rancor slowly stalked through the entrance to the pass, its enormous head sweeping low across the ground, searching for a scent.

"AH, COME ON!" Mission yelled, stomping her foot. "Really, a rancor!?"

The rancor's head swiveled towards them, its nostrils flaring as it smelled the air.

"Their eyesight isn't as sharp in the day as it is at night." Mothma whispered sidling up besides Mission. "It's relying on smell."

"How does that help us!?" Mira shot back sharply. The rancor's head snapped up its eyes locking onto them. Mothma cursed, and raised his repeater.

"Because he also has excellent hearing." He yelled furiously, and fired. The bolts drilled into the massive creatures head, but were deflected off by its thick hide. "Everybody run!"

Mission and Zaalbar didn't need to be told twice. Zaalbar bundled up their communications equipment and began running, but not before making sure Mission was following, helping Shang to carry the wounded Cole.

"Just leave me." He murmured, barely coherent.

"Trust me buddy," Shang said with a grunt as he carried his heavy body. "You'd regret it later."

"Why?" The man said, raising his head. He must have glimpsed the charging rancor, because a second later he fell back, unconscious. "I'm ready to go now." He murmured faintly.

"Yeah, I thought so."

Back at the rear, Mothma and Mira were steadily firing at the rancor's head. "This isn't working." Mira yelled over the chatter of Mothma's repeater.

"I know." He yelled back. "He's toying with us."

The rancor roared, and was circling in front of them, flexing its massive arms and showing its claws. It gave a ferocious roar, which splattered spittle and the remnants of a previous hunt towards them. Mira stepped back, letting it all fall short of her, before taking a defensive stance, both hands on her blade, angling it upwards towards the rancor's head.

"I'll stay and hold it off." She said to Mothma. "You-"

Mira felt something strike the back of her head, then she fell into darkness.

* * *

Mission was not the little girl she'd been when Carth and Revan had shown up in Taris and helped her save Zaalbar. She was taller, a little more mature, and…well, older. Still, she'd tried to hold on to that sunny optimism of her youth. Revan himself had told her that they may all need that some day.

However, it was awfully hard to be optimistic with the roars of a rancor chasing her down the narrow canyon. She held onto her blaster rifle while also desperately trying to keep her grip on the wounded soldier.

The massive creature was no longer in sight, but Mission knew from the noises it was making that it had cornered somebody. "Set him down." Cole said, dropping Shang's feet slowly to the ground. Mission followed suit.

"We need something heavier than what we've got here to take that down." Cole yelled over the roars.

"Oh great, let me grab that turbolaser I've got stashed in my pack." Mission replied sarcastically. Zaalbar growled at her, and barked an answer. "I know." She said in an exasperated voice. "But-"

She was interrupted by the Wookie again, who gave a warbling bark and a growl. To Mission, it made perfect sense.

"That could work." She mused, biting her bottom lip. "But it'd be pretty close."

"What'd be pretty close?" Cole asked, looking up from his partner.

"And I don't like the idea of what that excess radiation would do to us." Mission continued as if she hadn't heard him. Zaalbar just growled, low and determined.

"You're right." She sighed. "Go find Mira and Mothma. I'll call it in."

"Call what in!?" Cole exclaimed, now looking very alarmed.

"The _Shield_ was outfitted with the latest technology available, right?"

Cole nodded. "Supposedly, yeah."

Mission, crouching next to the com unit, began talking into while working the knobs, trying to get a connection. "Well, then its turbolasers should be pretty accurate, right?"

Cole shifted his stance and picked up his rifle. "I really don't like where this is going."

"Oh," Mission said with a cheerful grin. She had finally gotten a connection to the _Shield_. "You're gonna love it."

* * *

From the bridge of the _Shield_, Halsey was sitting in a chair, fingers steepled in on his knee as he watched his crew. They were a fine set of men, some of the best in the Republic. It felt wrong to him, keeping them in the dark about the true nature of their mission. Still, if word got out that they were searching for Revan…well, it would certainly complicate things.

Still, Halsey had a lot of faith in the Jedi Order, even Mira. Especially Mira actually. The young lady may not act like most of the Jedi he'd met. She certainly didn't dress like them. Still, he felt this…innate connection to her. Somehow, Halsey trusted her. And more importantly, he liked her.

"_What am I thinking_?" he thought, standing up to look out the view port and down at the planet. It looked small from space, as if he could reach out and pluck it from the blackness. _"No getting attached to commanders…Particularly ones that can read minds."_

Halsey was not one to rush into relationships. It simply wasn't his style. Despite all the invites, the subtle commentary and offerings of dozens of women from dozens of ports and planets, he'd determinedly refused, deciding to stay married to the Navy like his father had been. Still, he did have his occasional infatuations and dates.

"_But that's it."_ He thought to himself. "_No commanders, Jedi, or anything else that can pick me up with its mind."_

"Admiral." One of his ensigns said, interrupting his thoughts. "We are getting a transmission from the surface. Its signature matches that of the landing party."

"Patch them through." Halsey commanded without hesitation. It had been meant as an in out mission, so if they were calling them, it probably meant they'd found something. A second later, a fuzzy voice began speaking through the com system.

"Hello?" The voice said. "Hello, is this thing on?"

"This is the _Shield_." Halsey said, raising his voice. "What's your situation?"

"Oh, hi admiral." The voice said cheerfully. It was obvious now who it was by now. "We've got a problem down here." In the background, a faint but clearly loud roar echoed through the bridge.

"What was that?" An alarmed lieutenant said, looking around. Halsey repeated the question to Mission.

"Oh, it's a rancor. That's actually why I'm calling…"

"A rancor?" Halsey said, sitting heavily back down in his chair. "What have you guys been doing down there?"

"Mostly running." Mission answered quickly. The roars were getting closer. "Anyways, we need an airstrike at coordinates." There was a pause. "39 degrees North and 68 degrees west."

"No! 58 degrees west!" A voice screamed in the background.

"My bad." Mission reported with a shrug. "58 degrees west."

Halsey nodded. "Gunnery control, magnify to those coordinates." It wouldn't due to simply bombard those coordinates. What they needed was a precise shot, one that wouldn't leave a mile long scar on the ground. They would have to magnify to the location, then aim manually till they could hit the rancor.

"We have magnification sir." One of his gunnery officers reported crisply. "Ready to fire on your mark."

Halsey looked at the telescopic view of the planet. There, still only about as small as an ant, was a running rancor. The large beast was lopping through the canyon, obviously chasing some type of prey. The question now was how close the Jedi were to it. This was one of those decisions a commander could only make on instinct and guts; the kind of decisions Halsey loved.

"Fire for effect gentlemen." He commanded, standing at parade stance, his hands carefully clasped behind his back. For all he knew, he'd just killed his own commander.

* * *

Mothma had Mira slung over his back, and was sprinting down the canyon as fast as his legs would carry him. He was old that much was certain, but one of his missions was to ensure this girl survived. Of course, he'd knocked her out. Couldn't have her offering to hold off the rancor, or using the Force to convince him it was a good idea. Soldier's job was to protect the commander. If that meant knocking her out, then Mothma would do that.

He ran, his muscular legs propelling him away from the bewildered rancor. He hurtled around a corner of the canyon and nearly collided with Shang.

"Hey commander." Shang exclaimed, surprised.

At that moment, many things happened at once. Shang was bowled over as Mothma threw Mira off his back and into the bewildered Republic soldier. Pushing them both to the ground, his soldier instincts (and the sizzling of turbolaser fire breaking atmosphere) told him to cover as much of the commander as he could.

Meanwhile, Zaalbar picked up both Mission and Cole in his massive furry arms and, with a powerful heave, threw them under one of the many overhangs within the canyon before diving in himself. There was a roar and the rancor stormed around the canyon bend, hissing and sniffing for his prey. A second later, the monster was surprised to feel a brief, sharp pain in his skull, followed by the distinct feeling of falling as the turbolaser fire disintegrated his body.

**_Thanks for reading and reviewing!_**


	10. Chapter 10 Another Clue

**_Because of some stuff I've got going on, I'm going to accelerate this story and move it along. Still, I kinda like the way I'm planning to do it. I'll explain at the bottom._**

"Sooooo…Not the best start to our little adventure." Mission leaned back in one of the vacant command chairs on the bridge of the _Shield_. Her clothes were filthy from their excursion and fight on the surface. "We go to sight see, and end up nearly getting speared, eaten, and burned to dust by turbolaser fire." She glanced up at Zaalbar. "Sure you don't want to go home?"

Zaalbar howled affirmative sounding huff.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Mission turned to Mira, whose rapidly swelling head was being attended by several medics. "So, what next?"

"Aside from gutting Mothma?" Mira jerked her head back, snarling a warning at one of the medics.

Admiral Halsey frowned. The girl was angrier than a bantha with a backache, but she needed to have her head checked for concussion or internal bleeding. And then there was the issue of Mothma. Halsey trusted the old soldier with his life, so he must have had a good reason for knocking the girl out. On the other hand, Mira was livid.

"Jedi Mira, is there any chance you could let that go? Mothma merely wanted to ensure that you didn't try anything stupid." Halsey winced as Mira's scowl deepened. Girls were so volatile sometimes, but Mira multiplied that by a hundred.

"Remember that you are our only link to the Exile, and your ability to track people through the Force is our only compass." Halsey tried to draw up as much confidence and command as he could. "In other words, you-can't-die!"

Mira glared angrily at him for a second, but then stared at the ceiling as the medics finished patching up her forehead. Halsey was right of course. She had been about to stay behind and hold off that rancor alone, which would have almost certainly killed her. From now on though, it seemed Mira would need to be protected, rather than protecting. It was irksome for Mira. She'd become a Jedi to help protect lives, not be put on some pedestal to point people around.

"Fine." She murmured reluctantly. "I'll be more careful. Can we go now?"

"Go?" Mission looked startled. "Where? Do we even know where the Exile has gone?"

"No, but Admiral Halsey had an idea." She glanced at the young commander, a hard glint in her eyes. "I don't suppose I can tell them, oh glorious leader?"

Halsey ignored the sarcasm and nodded.

"We think the Exile came here to see the wreckage of the Star Forge and follow in Revan's footsteps. That means-"

Mission jerked to her feet, snapping her fingers. "It means Revan must have left some clue for the Exile to follow. That's why he came here!"

"Yes, and sense Mira didn't sense anything on the planet, we think whatever clue we're looking for might be hidden amongst the wreckage of the Star Forge." Halsey glanced at the wreckage trapped in the orbit of the planet. It was like a thick and deadly cloud of shrapnel gradually forming an asteroid field. "And only a Jedi could find a needle in that proverbial haystack."

"So what?" Mira shrugged her shoulders. "We take a starfighter and search for it?"

"Exactly."

"Sounds safe."

"Which is why we'll send our best pilot." Halsey grinned. "Me."

Silence on the bridge. Then…

"So, let me get this straight." Mission rubbed her temple, annoyed. "We're sending a Jedi and an Admiral into a deadly asteroid field, essentially leaving this ship without its two commanders, all so we can chase a mystical clue that may or may not even exist."

An ensign manning the navigation station turned. "When you say it like that, it does sound kinda stupid."

"Don't you have something to do…like steering the ship?" The admiral snapped.

The ensign turned back to his consol sheepishly. "Yes sir."

"Now," The Admiral turned back to Mira and the rest of their companions, "I'll need you to help me search the rubble for whatever clue you suspect the Exile left behind."

"Of course." Mira nodded. She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "But won't it be a tight fit?"

* * *

It was, indeed, a tight fit.

"Ow!" Mira growled, jamming an elbow back at into Admiral Halsey's gut. He grunted and bent over, sending the ship into an upward spiral towards another piece of rubble. Only a desperate roll saved them from becoming another piece of the remains of the old battle.

"Are you trying to get me killed!?" Halsey exclaimed, slowing the ship back to its previous slug like pace. "And would you quit squirming so much! You keep knocking the stick around."

"Just keep your kriffin' hands where I can see them." Mira warned with a wave of her index finger. "Look but don't touch."

"Yeah, yeah…" Halsey swung the ship about, again avoiding a messy death by mere centimeters. "Says the woman dressed in black leather and-"

He never finished his sentence, as Mira had grabbed a handful of his blond hair and yanked-hard!

"What were you saying?"

"You heard me." Halsey's eyes were wide, still trying to fly as Mira pulled his scalp from his head. "If you're going to dress like that, don't do the whole tease and kill thing!"

Mira tilted her head thoughtfully. One thing she could say for the admiral; he wasn't short on guts. And she had to admit, he was rather good looking…In a youthful sorta way.

"Fine." She relented. "But start heading out to the left a little."

"Hmmm," Halsey squinted at his radar monitor. "Why? My instruments aren't picking anything up."

"Who's the Jedi here?"

"Okay, okay." Halsey turned the ship up and into an arch around the orbital ellipse of the orbit of the rubble. Their arch brought them back down into the deadly cloud moments later.

Mira could feel the Force pulling her through the nebulous cloud. Smaller pieces of debris merely bounced off the armor of the Aurek-class fighter, but the larger would only require a scrape to wipe them into space dust.

Then, a sudden realization. A gift from the Force.

"That way." Mira pointing towards a cluster of the deadly rubble. Halsey nodded, pulling the fighter closer and closer, weaving and dipping. Once they were closer, Mire reached out to the powerful nexus of Force energy radiating from the rubble. Mira extended a tendril of Force energy; enveloping and grabbing the energy up like a scoop, and pulling it closer. She dragged it closer and closer until she managed to separate it from the rest of the rubble.

"There!" She shouted, pointing out the small rectangular shard of rubble. Mira turned her pointing finger into an outstretched palm, pulling the rectangle closer and closer. It appeared to be plain durasteel, reinforced against the vacuum of space to protect whatever was inside from the randomly crushing stones and cataclysmic events that seemed so prevalent in space.

Using the Force, Mira held the box tight to the hull of their small starfighter.

"You know," Mira commented as Halsey turned their starfighter in a slow arc away and out from the rubble field, "It's nice to have a mission that doesn't end with us screaming and running for our lives."

* * *

Back on the _Shield_, several republic tech officers, explosive experts, and weapons experts were gathered around the box in the hanger. Despite their best efforts (which consisted of several volleys of blaster rifles, a blaster cannon, several tons of explosives, and a particularly stubborn wookie with a sledgehammer) the box's secrets had eluded them.

"It must have some type of secret trigger that we can't see." One of the technicians murmured. Mira agreed, though she kept her thoughts to herself. The box was unmarred by any imperfections. No knobs, creases, or openings. Just a perfect durasteel container.

"Maybe…" Mira murmured, feeling along the sides. Then, struck by a sudden inspiration, she grinned and reached out with the Force.

No ship big enough to carry a tractor beam could have entered that asteroid field and held still long enough to capture the box, which meant that whoever had left that box behind had expected whoever found it to grab it using an alternative means…such as the Force. Perhaps they meant for the person to open the box the same way.

Mira concentrated on the box, letting the Force feel about the inside of the box until…

"There it is." Mira said aloud, earning her curious looks from Halsey and Mothma. She just grinned at them and, with a gentle nudge of the Force, pressed the trigger deep inside the box that, to her Force abilities, was highlighted by almost an impossibly bright aura. Something deep in the box whirred and whined, before the walls of the box fell apart and its contents were exposed to the bright light.

"What is it?" Mission asked excitedly, craning her head for a view. "Huh!?"

Mira reached down, pulling the simple contents from the pile. It was a meager thing. There were two small, palm sized cubes with ornate writings and glyphs inscribed on it, and a small armband stamped with a very familiar symbol on it.

"This is the armband the Exile used to wear when I traveled with her." Mira held it up, rolling it in between her fingers. His presence in the Force radiated from it, a strong reminder of her old friend. "As for these…"

Mira held the twin cubes in her hands for the rest of the group to see.

"They're holocrons." Mothma explained quickly, snatching one of them from her hands and holding it up to the light. "When I served under Revan, he used holocrons to record his thoughts."

"A Holocron?" Mission looked at Mothma quizzically. "I don't remember Revan ever using something like that?"

"Remember, I served with Revan during the War girl, far before you ever met him." He ponedered the small cube in his hand returning it to Mira with a shrug. "It's essentially a recording device that uses a special Force powered crystal to capture the author's persona and imprint it on the holocron." He gave Mira a meaningful look. "As far as I know, only a Jedi can open it."

* * *

An hour later, after much argument with Mothma, Mira was settled into her room, the two holocrons arrayed before her.

Mothma had wanted to be there for when the holocron was opened, as had Halsey. But something told Mira that this was something she needed to do alone. Mothma had tried to insist, but Mission, Zaalbar, and, surprisingly enough, Halsey had all talked him down.

"_He's all right. At least he can hold his own."_

Taking a deep breath, Mira reached out with the Force again to open the holocron the way he had with the durasteel box. As usual, thanks to her ability to find things with the Force, it was not long before she found the desired trigger for the holocron. There was a hiss, and the holocron opened, rearranging itself until, finally, it projected the image of the Exile.

Mira gasped, surprised by the image before her. The Exile…was older. Of course, the Exile had always seemed older than she appeared, and everyone would grey eventually…but to see the once beautiful Exile like that.

Mira realized that the Exile was not actually that old, but the hardships of wandering the Outer Rim and Wild Space seemed to have taken a toll on her body, but she still had the appearance of the general and Jedi she'd once been. Her saber was clipped to her belt beneath her robes, and beneath the outer robes, Mira glimpsed what looked like some type of armor padding. The Exile was obviously prepared for battle, as Mira remembered her.

"Hello Mira." The Exile spoke calmly, her holographic smile drawing her lips back. "I can't say I'm surprised you were the one to find this, considering your unique ability with the Force."

"My unique ability?"

The Exile nodded. "In fact, I was somewhat counting on your skill in tracking Force signatures to find this amongst the rubble of the Star Forge. A dangerous gamble on my part I suppose."

Mira nodded before settling down into a meditative stance before the cube and her former master. "So, what do you want me to do?"

The gatekeeper of the holocron was silent for several long moments, looking disturbed and reluctant to continue, as though she were embarrassed.

"I of course have no idea where I am now, as this holocron was left behind no doubt some time ago. Yet, I think I can give you some clues from what I knew at the time." The holographic Exile hitched her thumbs into her belt, fingering her lightsaber. "More importantly, I fear I will need your help by the time you get this."

"What do you mean?"

"Somewhere out there," the Exile continued, waving a hand behind her. As she did, a visual representation of the Unknown Regions rose behind her. "The Sith are lying in wait. They fled years ago, and have built their Empire out there; creating an entity that can challenge the Republic." The Exile's image flickered for a moment, as though the connection were poor. "This Empire cannot be allowed to find the Republic."

"Thanks, we've figured that much out ourselves." Mira spoke dryly, annoyed by getting obvious advice from a device she'd risked her life for. "It'd be nice if you could tell us WHERE the Empire is though."

"That, not even I know. At least," The Exile grinned, "Not when I made this holocron. However, you should have also received my old armband as well, correct?"

As an answer, Mira presented the armband.

"I've worn that since the old wars, even before our little adventures. You should be able to use that to help quickly track my presence across the Unknown Regions."

Mira nodded, pocketing the armband for later. She would meditate, imprint the Force signature in her mind, and use it to track the Exile to the Empire…or her master's burial site.

"And the other holocron?" Mira plucked the holocron from the ground, again showing it to the Exile.

"That," the Exile said with a smile, "is your own holocron."

"My own?"

"The odds of any of us coming back from this adventure are lower than even a Corellian would take, and if we die, I'd like us to be able to leave behind something for the Jedi who will take up the standard after us."

Mira nodded, accepting the grimness of the situation without faltering. She'd grown up fighting for survival as a Mandalorian slave, or a child bounty hunter. For her, this was just an inevitability she'd seen coming forever.

"I will Master."

"I look forward to seeing you again Mira." The ghost of her master bowed. "May the Force be with you."

"And you Master.

**_So, basically I'm going to present the next couple months (or years) as Mira's entrys in her holocron. I like the idea quite a bit, and it'll probably help me push the story forward. Please enjoy, and remember to check out the companion story. The two are about to entwine._**


	11. Chapter 11 The Holocron of Jedi Mira

_**This Chapter is in Journal form as Mira records her story in her holocron. Please enjoy, and know that the end is coming!**_

1st entry-

_I'm afraid I don't quite know how to work this karking thing yet. I've been trying to imprint my Force persona on the holocron like the Exile suggested, but after hours of tinkering with it…damn thing still won't open. The only thing I've got working now is the recording device, so I'll just start with that. As for where my story will start… I guess the beginning is best._

_I was born in the Outer Rim during the Mandalorian Wars. At the time, with the Jedi and the Republic getting their butts handed to them on a flaming, turbolaser-riddled platter, there was no way they could have found me. I don't remember my parents, or where I was born. I guess I have that in common with the Jedi. When I was young, I was captured by Mandalorians and used as a slave. They taught me a lot though, and became like a family to me. Nothing like bonding over a discussion of which type of explosive is best for a rapid breach and entry._

'_ahem' Anyways, when I was fourteen, the Mandalorians were suckered into the Battle of Malachor V, where everyone I knew in the galaxy died. The Republic found me hiding on one of the formally conquered planets a few days later. I thought I would be killed or at least taken prisoner, but they thought I was just one of the surviving refugees. I was put into a camp like everyone else, and eventually hitched a ride on a ship with most of the other refugees for Nar Shaddaa. _

_Not much to tell about that. I lived in the Refugee Sector for a while, working odd jobs and running errands for everything from hutts to homeless. It was tough work, and I think around that time my talent in the Force started to surface. Every time I saw a misplaced family of refugees, or really anyone who didn't belong where they were, I could feel it. It was like…It was like they were a big stone interrupting the flow of a river._

_Later, I told the Exile that I wanted to be trained so I could put everything back where it belonged. So I could put the pieces of the galaxy back together…But I'm not sure that's true anymore. Or at least, not entirely true. Maybe the reason I want to put the galaxy together is because I lost my place in it so long ago. Since I was fourteen, I haven't had any family to speak of. Maybe that's why I want to fix everyone else's lives and put them back together._

_Makes a girl think really. Being that alone I mean. Sometimes, when I'm trying to sleep at night or not keeping busy, I wonder what will happen after I die. I mean, Jedi are supposed to be able to be Force Ghosts or something, right? But I don't think I'm even close to strong enough in the Force for that. Plus, I think I have a little too much gangster in me for that 'laughs'. _

_Even if I do die though, I wonder if anyone will remember me. I don't have a family. No brothers, or sisters. No mother or father that will miss me. No government even has a record of my existence (Then again, that WAS my own doing wasn't it). I don't know. It just seems like There is nothing left that would even bat an eye at my passing. The rest of them, with the exception of Atton, all have places as Knights or Masters on the Jedi Council. They'll go down in history forever. So what about me?_

_AH! I've digressed too much and didn't get to finish what I was saying! I'll have to pick this up some other time._

* * *

Entry 2

_Let's see…where was I?_

_Oh, right. Nar Shaddaa. Well, job opportunities were slim pickings with all the refugees immigrating. So, it wasn't long before some of my jobs began to become of…questionable legality. Mostly small time stuff like running spice and other illegal goods. Nobody ever searches little girls. Just small courier stuff between some of the rival gangs. _

_Once, while moving some stuff for a Twi'lek named…man, what was his name? Stars it was a while ago. Fat guy, nasty temper._

_Anyways, I was pick pocketed by some kid a year or two younger than me. The runt bolted, trying to hide out in the mazelike Refugee sector. At that point, I started to get a little concerned for my legs. The traditional remedy for couriers who were too slow or lost their cargo was to break their knee caps. Not to mention that I wouldn't be paid._

_I looked forever, searched every nook and cranny of that place, but he was nowhere. Finally, just when I was giving up and reassuring myself that a hoverchair wouldn't be that bad, I had the strange feeling of someone tapping me on the shoulder. I was kinda freaked out and whirled around to confront whoever it was._

_Nobody was there. I tried to continue on my way, but the tapping wouldn't stop. Finally, I turned again and this time felt a nudge, as if I was being pushed forward by an imaginary hand. I moved forward without thinking, figuring I was dead anyways. As I continued following my invisible helpers hints, I felt…Actually, I still don't know how to describe it. It was a feeling of familiarity, but I just couldn't figure it out. But I noticed it got stronger the closer I got to a particular storage box of the Refugee Sector. When I kicked the door open, I was surprised to find the thief indulging in the spice with three of his little urchin friends._

_I dumped the kids off for the gang to deal with. They traded them in for bounties the thieves had accumulated, and so did not break my legs. Still, I decided to stop running spice after that. It didn't pay that well unless you had nice starship anyways, and I was getting a little old to be shoving spice in my pocket and walking through checkpoints. _

_So, I picked up bounty hunting after that. Plenty of work, good pay, and I was very good at it. Somehow, I could track people through the Force the same way I did that little pickpocket. I'd feel them in the Force by the disruptions they make in the flow of life. It made finding someone in a crowd easy. It wasn't long before I was finding bounties that had stayed hidden for years. I'd just ask for something the person had once owned and get a feel for how they felt in the Force. People leave traces everywhere they go, on everything they touch or come near. Even in space._

_That's how I can sense the Exile. It's like…It's like he'd left a trail of bread crumbs to follow, a set of beacons through space. Little bursts of Force energy stranded in time. It's weird, this talent. I always thought the Force only existed in living things. So why is it, in space where there isn't matter, let alone anything living, am I able to feel glimmers of force energy? Pretty kriffing weird?_

* * *

Entry 3

_Had a weird thing happen the last couple weeks. We came across this nebula when we came out from one of our hyperspace jumps. Just a cloud of dust and gas floating like a fog. Halsey insisted that we move through it, since it was disrupting our ability to chart the next jump. Mothma was adamant that we go back though and plot a different course. Halsey decided to continue forward. What happened next, no matter who reads this, needs to be recorded._

_The nebula was alive. _

_As soon as we entered it, everyone knew something was wrong. Electronics and scanners worked fine, and it's not like there was some eerie moaning. But I felt like I was back on Nar Shaddaa, with thousands of people circling and swirling around me. There was a planet, no a galaxies worth of life out there. Sentient life too. It took us three standard days to get through the nebula, and the crew was on edge the whole time._

_I didn't feel malevolence from them. They just existed, radiating around the ship as we pushed through. I know I'm not one to meditate, but I will need to think on this…_

* * *

Entry 4

_Mothma and I were at odds again. He burst into my room while I was meditating, screaming at me to stop shutting myself up in my cabin and start taking command of the ship, and participating with the crew. I threw the little barve out without even looking at him. I think he dislikes me because I was raised by Mandalorians, and the fact that I'm not exactly the Jedi he thought I should be. _

_I guess I can understand. He served with Revan throughout the Mandalorian Wars and was absolutely loyal to him. He also followed the Exile when she returned to Coruscant, and fought with the Jedi again during the Civil War. Those are hard standards to compete with. _

_I've seen the Exile force people to change their minds with pure will, obliterate armies with a twitch of her fingers, and carve her way through half the Sith Order…and she was just the apprentice of Revan. Revan's stories are the things of legend._

_I know that I'll never be that powerful. I simply just don't have that kind of power in me. Still…I don't know. Maybe I'm just feeling depressed cuz of all this time staring at space for hours on end._

* * *

Entry 5

_I guess I should continue my story. When I found the Exile on Nar Shaddaa (Which he made rather easy in retrospect) I was surprised. I'd expected some old wizened geezer with a cough and a long list of anecdotes about light and dark. But the Exile was, different. I still don't know how to describe her. But I was drawn to her. Even without the reward for keeping her alive, I probably would have tried to._

_When she taught me to open myself up to the Force, I remember being terrified. It was vast and overwhelming, particularly on a city like Nar Shaddaa. But she taught how to block it out; how to ride the currents of the Force instead of letting myself get swept away by them. It was…amazing._

_After that, I swore to follow the Exile wherever she went. And I did. For months we pursued the Sith and missing Jedi across the galaxy. More times than once, she needed my skills as a bounty hunter to find her former masters and enemies. But there was more to it than that. The more I used my ability to track people like these masters through the Force, the more accurate and precise the skill became, the better I could feel the Force flowing through me._

_I remember the moment I became a Jedi. During the battle for Onderon, the Exile decided to split our forces. Three of us would travel to the moon of Dxun, where the Sith were coordinating the attack and preparing a dark ritual of some kind. The Exile chose me to lead it. I reluctantly agreed._

_It was a tough fight. We snuck, fought, and backstabbed our way through what must have been a full battalion of Sith troopers and assassins. We used the woods for cover, taking advantage of whatever we could along the way to create havoc with their security systems. Then, finally, we found the Sith._

_There were three of them, fully fledged Sith masters, at the center of the temple, standing over Freedon Nadd's tomb. The three turned and attacked. In the fight that followed, my other two partners fell, wounded within moments, though they each managed to kill one of the Sith. The last one, clearly the leader, spoke with me, saying he sensed the power within me._

_We fought. I lost, but at the last moment, when the Sith was about to strike me down, I could feel the Force guiding me. The Sith's lightsaber flew from his hands, slapping into my palm .Instinctively, I cut the man down without hesitation, without mercy. And, that ended it. I was no longer just a bounty hunter. I was a Jedi._

_I think the Exile agreed when she saw me. I tried to give her the lightsaber, thinking she could use it better than me, but she just shook her head and told me it was mine now. I modified it of course, replacing the Sith red for the deep orange it is now, but it is still the same. Sometimes, I wonder if the reason I've kept it all these years is because it's a little tainted. Like me. Not perfect, not always good. _

* * *

Entry 6-

_Party today. Yes, a party. Apparently that little trump Mission hacked the Shield's databanks and found my birthday. Little- Well, it was nice I guess. I haven't celebrated in a while. Of course, I didn't bother to tell them that not even I knew my actual birthday, and that today was simply a random date. Still, the thought was nice, and when they rolled out that cake with the little pruta nuts sprinkled on it…_

_Sorry, got carried away. After that, we drank and watched the stars. A lot of that was a blur, but the last thing I really remember is waking up with the admiral. THE ADMIRAL! Haha, it's like one of those cheesy romance holovids. Poor Halsey, I don't think he even knew what he did. Weird thing is, neither of us drank that much, and I remember lying with him the best…He must have been a good lay._

_Anyways, we've kept plotting locations and are farther into the Unknown Regions than anyone else in history. We've seen things that I'd only imagined before. And, more importantly, my ability to find things in the Force is now strong enough that I think I almost know for certain where to jump next. It'll take a while to get there safely. Maybe a year or two of plotting short jump after short jump. But we'll get there. _

* * *

Entry 7-

_Had another fight with Mothma. By the Force that guy is irritating. He keeps a trio of kath hounds on the ship, and the blasted animals have taking to charging down the corridors in the middle of the night. To be honest, I probably should have let it go, but those things are hunting hounds. They're supposed to kill things, so is it unreasonable to be a little unsettled having those things all over the place. Besides, Mothma treats them like dirt, letting them fight each other into unconsciousness. "Survival of the fittest." he said. "Even your Force follows that."_

_He's probably right. Maybe that's why the scale keeps tipping back between dark and light. Perhaps the Jedi are too weak, when the Sith return. We strengthen or die. _

_Mothma needs to learn respect someday though. He may have been a Revan fanatic, but he sided with the Republic for a reason._

* * *

Entry 8-

_Do Jedi have bastards? Ah, what would the Exile say!? Okay, so I should probably back up here. I am, apparently, pregnant. Which might suck. Haven't told Halsey yet. Gotta be him, since…well, no one else on this ship has gotten lucky…at least, not with me. _

_GRRRAAAH! How'd this happen? I can't be pregnant! I'm a Jedi on what is essentially a suicide mission. We're supposed to be charging headlong into a Sith Empire…and I'm going to be dragging an umbilical cord._

_I'm having the baby of course. I couldn't do anything else, and I'll take responsibility for it. Still, that won't make this any easier…_

* * *

Entry 9-

_In retrospect, it might have been worth it to see Halsey's face. I can't even describe it to be honest. A mixture of surprise, terror, elation, and a small thing of pleasure. I have to admit, I don't regret it much yet. Halsey's smart, strong, and probably one of the few people on this ship who can keep up with me._

_I haven't mentioned this much, but the two of us have grown…close I suppose. Which is all right I think. The Exile had attachments for sure. Maybe trapping the two of us in the middle of Unknown Space against a massive Empire of Sith murderers with nowhere to run is the Force's version of a blind date. I dunno._

_Either way, I don't think marriage is in the pazzak cards here. We'll stay with each other, but until we get back to Republic space…well, let's just say we'll have other problems._

* * *

Entry 10-

_I've been too busy to record. Little Alain is sleeping, so I stole away. I never really thought being a mother would be this tough. I'd rather go eight rounds with a Trandoshan than change one more diaper. And the crying!_

_Anyways, it's been quite a few months since I last recorder, so I suppose I should update it. I had my child. Ignoring the months of me abusing everyone in sight, I guess it went well enough. God willing, everything on my body will go back to normal someday (though I doubt it). I'm considering closing this holocron. It's got plenty of info, but I'm going to take a few days and put down everything I learned from the Exile. How to walk with stealth, how to influence animals minds, the lightsaber forms I know…Everything. Hopefully, I can someday return this to the Temple, and maybe retire after that. _

_We've plotted our course the whole way, and we've prepared a massive relay system that should carry any messages we send to Courscant in half a day. I can sense it. Mothma thinks I'm paranoid, but I can sense the Exile just beyond this nebula. Whatever's beyond here, whether it's a Sith Empire or a single Jedi Master…we'll be ready. _

_The Republic will send a fleet. Of that, I have no doubt. Once we send them a message and coordinates, they'll rescue us. Force willing, they'll be in time._


	12. Chapter 12 Almost Done

Atton had always skirted the dark side, and could even be considered something of a Grey Jedi. Without a doubt though, he was the Jedi for this job. For the past three years, he had traveled from planet to planet, tracking down cells of these 'Sith agents' and following their trail around the Outer Rim. He'd been in sporadic communication with the Temple, and they had been adamant that he find these spy groups and, more importantly, find out where they get their orders.

This, everyone knew, would require work of a less than legitimate nature. Atton had carved a path through what he'd soon realized was a deeply engrained system of spies and agents that were intertwined with the criminal organizations of the galaxy.

But recent evidence had presented even more worrying evidence. Atton believed that, on the small planet of Berea, the Sith presence ran higher than the his fellow dregs of society. AND that was extremely worrisome. If the Sith were infiltrating the upper levels of governments in Outer Rim planets like Berea, an invasion could not be far behind.

The planet Berea was mountainous and constantly caught in the grip of violent rains and wind…so, naturally, a mining company had seen fit to build a massive colony there. This also led to a small town that gradually grew to a sizable city as Berea became an important stop for traders.

The current governor of Berea was a rather apt administrator named Grice Roche. He supposedly had the acumen to have led the Berea settlements into a new age of prosperity, which made the fact that his home was on a list of safe houses all the more concerning.

As Atton made his way from the spaceport to the governors' palace, he contemplated how his search had proceeded so far. To be honest, he had begun to doubt whether this ring of spies was a part of an extra-galactic invasion. Rather, he'd begun to suspect that the threat of the True Sith was a ploy meant to distract from the threat they played.

He reviewed the facts. None of the agents he'd found had lived long enough for a confession or to provided information. They'd all been had the standard issue Sith intelligence Agency Silencers attached to their brains. Atton himself had had one before his desertion. If not for the Jedi deactivating it with the Force, he would have been murdered as soon as they heard of his disappearance. These Silencers were standard issue for Revan's Empire, and were developed by him personally, so Atton doubted any ancient Sith would have had them. Therefore, it was clear to Atton that this group of spies was the remnants of Revan's Empire, and had never contacted anything beyond the Unknown Regions.

There was one last piece of evidence though. Out of all the agents he'd tracked, Governor Roche was best positioned to be in contact with the Unknown Regions. He was the most powerful, was on the fringes where contact was easy, and even was close to where the _Shield_ had left to search for the Sith. It was possible that this governor was the highest link in the chain, and the last one before the True Sith. Atton would check this man's property first, see if he had any outgoing transmissions towards the Unknown Region and, if not, he would return to the Council and present his suspicions.

* * *

The Governor's mansion itself was hardly impressive. Minor security patrolled the courtyard of a averaged sized ranch style house. Perhaps it was big for Berea, but it was easily dwarfed by the smallest Coruscanti apartment. Atton easily evaded the security, sliding through one badly repaired board on the wall. Once inside, it would be a simple matter of finding this man.

Of course, it was not. Atton searched the entire house, yet found nothing. No databanks, holocrons, or even a com projector strong enough to move beyond the local spaceport.

"_Doesn't make any sense."_ Atton mused as he walked about the empty home. _"There should be some signs of…Sithiness. I know my information was accurate…"_

The last agent he'd tracked had lived in a filthy hovel on the edge of the Outer Rim, a typical place, one of many cells Atton had tracked and eliminated. But this one, unlike others, had contained a wealth of information, including important contacts like the Governor of Berea. The fact that that goldmine of information possessed no contacts beyond Republic territory made Atton unsure of how large this spy ring was.

Using the Force, Atton reached out and felt about for any disturbances. It wasn't long before he found one. Beneath the floor of the complex, he felt a powerful surge of dark force energy. If Atton had not already walked between dark and light, he would have been brought to his knees. Instead, he gagged for a moment before puking.

"Stang!" He cursed, wiping his face with a ragged sleeve. Whatever was down there, it was a scene of terrible violence. For a moment, Atton could only stand, rooted to the spot by revulsion. Then, drawing his pistols, he began searching for a trap door.

* * *

The basement was dark, damp, and stank of evil.

"_Basically your typical Sith dungeon from a bad holonovel."_

Keeping his weapons at his side but ready, Atton soon found himself in a dimly lit room. An apparently inconspicuous room. Bare walls, a small kitchen counter with a series of cooking tools hanging delicately from a rack. Atton approached the small counter, rubbing his hands along its smooth surface.

"Perfectly clean." He muttered to himself before a sudden scuffling from behind surprised him. He spun, raising his weapons.

There was a small growling from the darkness, by Atton sensed no danger. Holstering one weapon, he reached up to the hanging light and aimed its beam at the sound. There, a pair of eyes glared at him with hostility from the dark, glinting dangerously. Atton calmed for a moment. It was a pair of massive mastiff Kath Hounds. Dangerous, but also trapped behind a powerful durasteel cage.

Atton lowered his weapons cautiously and approached the cages. The hounds seemed to be living in relative comfort. There were warm blankets, fresh food, cracked bones-"

"_Familiar bones._" Atton thought, a feeling of dread coursing through him. Taking a glow rod from his belt, he activated it and shined the light through the bars. "_Human bones."_

Small human or humanoid bones, but certainly bones. Cracked and caked with blood and dried saliva from the Kath Hounds. Atton stepped backward, his face twisted with anger. He looked back at the spotless counter, the hanging kitchen tools, and anger flared up in him. Above, he heard the faint sound of light footfalls. The sound of someone carefully moving.

They knew he was here.

"_Good," _Atton thought grimly, activating his stealth generator, _"Let them come."_

* * *

Governor Grice Roche did not consider himself an evil man. True, he had some depravities, but every man did. The fact that, as governor of their little planet, children occasionally disappeared, was unremarkable. Someday, a scapegoat would have to be found for all these "murderers", but until then, Roche could wait.

When he'd returned, Roche had immediately smelled the foul combination of bile and alcohol. Somebody had puked on his new heartwood floors. Having served in the war with Revan, and the Republic later, Roche immediately began scanning the house, calling for security as he drew his sidearm. He was soon joined by three of his guards, each of them totting a heavy blaster rifle on their ragged uniforms. Like most of his guards, they were mercenaries drawn from the locals.

"Come with me." He commanded, leading them towards the trapdoor to the lower level. The guards were privy to his…hobbies. After all, someone had to find his victims.

They hurried into the dark cellar, all of them with their weapons leveled. As they came to the "kitchen" Roche raised a fist, telling his guards to wait. They halted and Roche cautiously stepped into the dim light. He gave a sigh of relief as he realized nothing was disturbed and his two beloved Kath Hounds were fine, staring at him balefully.

"Don't worry girls." He cooed softly. "We'll go hunting again soon."

He chuckled a little at some invisible joke and rose back to his feet. As he turned, he started.

His guards had been replaced by a single man, standing unarmed on the edge between shadows and the dim light. Roche reacted instantly, raising his blaster but the weapon was jerked from his hand when the figure twitched a finger. It clattered against the wall harmlessly.

The figure advanced, stepping over the dead bodies of Roche's guards to get to him. Roche, to his credit, did not flinch.

"Who are you?" He demanded, trying to raise himself up in authority. "You have no right to enter my property and murder my men."

The figure said nothing; he just drew a blaster and fired. The stun bolt caught Roche on the sternum, throwing him back and to the ground heavily. He lay there for a few moments, unable to even move his limbs. He heard the figure leave, his footsteps moving about upstairs for a few minutes before returning, holding large, soaking wooden box.

"What is the meaning of this!?" Roche demanded from the ground. "I am the Governor of Berea and you will release me!"

"No." The figure said. He seemed to draw something from his pocket, and tossed it towards Roche. A small tibia from one of his victims landed besides him.

"Now, I haven't tried this yet, but," The man reached out with a hand, his outstretched palm shaking. A sharp pain ripped through Roche, seeming to tear his head apart into thousands of pieces, and then stopped.

"Ah, so you are a Sith spy. That will make this easier.

Roche winced at this. How had this man known about the Sith?

"I've disabled the Sith Silencer in your head, so there won't be any screaming madness for you."

Roche nodded; he'd suspected as much. "So, what happens now?" He asked wonderingly.

"You tell me where your transmitter is from which you receive orders from."

The man looked confused for a moment and shook his head. "I receive no orders. Years ago, I was put in charge of our little spy ring and was ordered to simply transmit updates to my superiors personal com channel."

Atton immediately understood. If given a specific, personalized com frequency, it would be much easier for even a weak transmitter, like one found at the Berea spaceport, to find the correct signal, as it would not have to sort through the billions of messages that crisscrossed the stars.

"Well, I suppose the first step towards your own self-preservation would be to give me the frequency before I kill you."

The governor nodded quickly. "Of course. You'll find everything you need on the datapad upstairs next to my cot. Will that satisfy you?"

Atton turned to leave, his anger swirling about inside him. Unlike most Jedi, Atton did not suppress his anger or let ago. Rather, he harbored it, compressing it until it became cold as steel.

"No, not really." Atton turned and fired without warning, the stun bolt again catching Roche in the chest, leaving him sprawled out on the floor, but he could still talk.

"What're you going to do!?" The governor spat, smiling. "You've got nothing. It's your word against the word of the beloved governor of this planet." Roche jerked his head at the bodies of his guards. "You're already a murderer! Nobody will believe you."

"I don't need them to." Atton murmured, retrieving the soaking box from the ground where he'd left it. It was only then that Roche recognized the box as his own meat locker, where the Governor kept refrigerated meats and nerf steaks that his position was privileged to.

"Hm," The governor smiled again, letting his head fall back gently on the floor. "Fine then. I confess." His head jerked back up as Atton continued unpacking the box, placing the bloody meats on the floor. "Go ahead! Arrest me."

"I don't think so." Atton mused, pulling out a particularly fatty piece of meat. Moving swiftly, grabbed the governor's mouth and held it open as he shoved the meat into the man's mouth, using the bloody steak as a gag.

"I really can't afford to take a prisoner right now." Atton explained, picking up the heavy meat locker and, with a gentle tip, pouring its contents onto Roche. The governor sputtered as every manner of raw meat landed on him, along with a large pool of animal blood. The Kath Hounds howled from behind their cages, gnashing their teeth.

"I would arrest you." Atton stared down at the man coldly. "Truly, I would."

Then he walked away. But as he left, a flick of his wrist and a whisper of the Force unlocked the cage doors. They fell with metallic clanks. The Hounds leapt forward, not seeing their master and only smelling food that had been denied from them for so long. Fresh food.

* * *

Roche's muffled yells followed Atton as he hurried upstairs, searching for the datapad. It was not long before he found it and pocketed it. Roche, who had apparently freed his mouth from the makeshift gag, was now screaming openly for help, but Atton pushed his voice from his mind.

Back on his small freighter, Atton plugged the personalized frequency into his ships own powerful transmitter. He gave a small start as he realized that the comlink on the other side of the frequency was receiving from deep in the Unknown Regions. Farther than anyone to his knowledge had ever gone into that dangerous territory.

"So it is the Sith." He muttered to himself, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He leaned back heavily into the pilot's seat, smoothing his hair back. "Stang."

* * *

Mira felt older, looking out across the stars next to Halsey. The two of them were enjoying the scene, rather oblivious to everyone around them. It was only after a few minutes that Mira glimpsed Mission staring at them and smiling that she stepped away from the Admiral.

They both agreed they had a job to do, and they couldn't let themselves be distracted. Still…

Mira sneaked another glance at Halsey. He'd stayed with her this long, insisting that he be a part of Alain's life and future. Mira admired that. Add to that Mission's constant hinting at them getting married, and Mira was becoming seriously concerned about her solo life on the road.

"_It wouldn't be that bad."_ The thought sprang unbidden to her mind, but Mira pushed it back down determinedly. No matter what happened, they'd be connected through their child. Marriage was…unlikely to say the least. But perhaps it was better this way. Alain could grow up the son of a great admiral, and Mira could continue to do what she did best…whatever that was nowadays.

"Admiral," One of the ensigns announced from the command pit, "We are not in orbit around the planet. Shall we prep shuttles for a surface resupply?"

Halsey hurried towards the ensign's station, glancing over his shoulder to see the readings of the planet. Another quality of his that Mira admired; He led from the front.

"Breathable atmosphere…covered in ninety percent forest?" Halsey shook his head. "That's common enough I suppose. Yes, have a squad sent down to search for supplies." He turned now to Mira. "Jedi Mira, I don't suppose you know where to go next?"

Mira shook her head. Normally, she had to meditate for close to a week before she could sense where their next jump would take them. Mira's ability to sense safe paths through hyperspace by following the Exile's Force signature had saved them much time, but it still took more time than anyone liked.

"It will take some time I think," Mira explained, "But we're close…so close."

Halsey nodded before returning to his work, command taking over any desire to talk to Mira. Mira, for her part, felt no strong desire to speak with Halsey. They were bonded through their child, and little else.

"Mira!" Mission yelled from a few yards back, where she and Zaalbar were, as usual, babysitting. "I think Alain might have just said his first word!"

That got her attention. And Halsey's too. They both rushed over, nearly tripping over themselves. They leaned in, listening to the small red heads quiet gurgling. He looked like a strange combination of Halsey's quietly noble face, and Mira's vibrant red hair. Oh, and her personality too…

"Kriffing mudcrunchers!" Little Alain yelled, smiling at his terrible curse. Mission laughed and Zaalbar gave a small yuffling chuckle.

"He's been spending too much time with his mother in her workshop." Halsey threw a grin at her, which Mira returned with a small grimace. She preferred a moving meditation, working in her room, adding small improvisations to her wrist launcher and lightsaber over the years. Lately, she had taken to having Alain with her on these meditation sessions, had he'd apparently picked up more than mechanical expertise.

"He's a regular second Mira." Mothma commented, startling everyone by seeming to just appear at Mira's shoulder. "Just what we need."

Mira smiled at the old soldier. In recent months, since they got closer to their goal, Mothma seemed to have warmed to Mira. Maybe it was the grandfather in him, but he had taken care of Alain on more than one occasion. So had most of the crew of the _Shield _for that matter.

"Well, I think it's time Alain went for a nap." Mission smiled at the little guy, picking him up and dropping him into a small baby carrier that Zaalbar had taken to carrying on his chest (reluctantly of course). "We'll take him to your quarters eh?"

"Go on." Mira agreed, sensing Mothma wished to talk with them. She waited till they were gone before turning back to him. "What is it?"

"Well, a few things." Mothma pulled out a datapad, handing it to Halsey. "First of all, we were pinged."

"Wha-" Halsey looked shocked. "How?"

"Excuse me!?" Mira looked thoroughly irritated. "But, pinged?"

"A sensor array has picked us up…and this array is presumably owned by someone else." Mothma looked almost excited and happy at the prospect of being detected by an unknown force. "I know your ship sensors cleared this system as clear, but my security team picked up unknown communication waves bouncing off our hull. Somewhere out there, there's a hidden sensor that's picked us up."

"But who-"

"The Sith." Mira stated with confidence. "I knew they were close, and this sounds like the edge of an Empire to me."

"So," Halsey looked at them all, seeing whether he'd actually be able to finish his sentence this time, "We send a message back using our message buoys. Hopefully, the Republic can spare some ships-"

"Actually, no."

Mira and Halsey looked at Mothma, shocked.

"We tried that already," Mothma explained, "But one of the buoys has been disabled and isn't transmitting." Mothma grinned again, like a soldier with his enemy in front of him. "We're on our own."

"Damn!" Mira snapped angrily. "How'd all this happen!?"

"Tech fails all the time." Halsey explained assuredly, "but I think that's the least of our worries."

"So, what should we be worried about then!?" Mira snapped.

"The fact that all these 'coincidences' happened at once means they can't possibly be random." Mothma agreed, looking at his commanders. "This is a trap. Whoever's reading those sensors is gonna find us and, if their hostile, hammer us."

Atton had the Jedi Council waiting with bated breath as he explained his findings. Ships could travel along the same path as long range communications (After all, they both utilized hyperspace).

"Which means we can hyperspace right to the receiver of this message." Mical finished Atton's explanation.

"Thank you master Mical." Atton murmured acidly. "And I think this is our best chance to find the Exile, so we need to leave as soon as possible."

"I agree." Bao-Dur commented hurriedly. "But it needs to be a small force. I suggest I go and join Atton. We can slip into this system, and leave just as quietly."

Atton said nothing, but silently ground his teeth. They didn't have time for this! The Exile could be out there, dying or worse…

"I sense your worry Atton." The ever calm Bastilla warned. "Be patient. Wait for back-up at least."

Brianna nodded, as small smile gracing her face. "If anyone can protect herself, the Exile can."

And just like that, Atton's worries seemed to evaporate. "Very well." He turned to the holographic Bao-Dur. "But I'm leaving in three standard days, with or without you."

Bao-Dur smiled. "I'd expect nothing less."


	13. Chapter 13 Treachery

_**Here it is, we're nearing the end. Soon we'll see how Mira's story ends. About two Chapters to go. Thank you all for reading and reviewing!**_

Mira sat cross legged in her room, pushing her distractions away. Well, trying to…and struggling. If Mothma was right, someone out there was watching them and, more likely than not, coming to investigate them. If it was the Sith they'd be screwed. If it wasn't…well, probably still bad. Who knew what the Unknown Regions held?

And so, Mira sat alone in her quarters, delving into the Force, searching for their jump. Halsey suggested they simply retreated back to Republic space, but Mira and Mothma had agreed that there was no going back now. Whatever had disabled their chain of communication buoys going back to the Republic could be lying in ambush for them. The _Shield _carried the latest technology and a full complement of fighters in its hull…but nobody doubted that, unless they found some way to escape this system, they would all die there.

Yet, when Mira reached out to feel for their next path…nothing. It felt like the Force had abandoned her, leaving them trapped in this system. For not the first time, Mira wondered why the Force had even bothered to manifest itself in someone weak as her.

Feeling her anger rise, Mira stood up and hurried towards her workbench, trying to bury her anger in work. She picked up her blaster, fingering the trigger guard gingerly. Mira had certainly customized it, as well as everything else she owned. Her lightsaber looked patched together with scrap. The Mandalorian body armor given to her by Ordo was reinforced with durasteel in certain placed while other places had had the yellow painted beskar replaced with a flexible mesh. Even her wrist launcher had been heavily modified over the years. She'd added a small five inch vibro blade that would spring forward with a flick of her wrist. A surprise for those who underestimated her.

As she fiddled with her tools, she sensed a presence approaching from the corridor behind her. A familiar one.

"Still meditating?" Mission knocked as she barged in, hurriedly plopping herself down in a nearby chair. She had a blaster pistol strapped to her thigh, a carbine hanging from her back.

Mira ignored Mission's playful jabbing. "Expecting trouble?" She asked without looking up.

Mission sighed heavily, leaning back uneasily. "I just have a bad feeling about all this. Why is the whole ship on high alert anyways?"

Mira raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You mean you haven't figured it out yet?"

"Well, none of you told me anything!" Mission snapped grumpily. "How could I know?"

A sharp laugh came from Mira. "Sorry. I just assumed you'd have hacked our computers or something by now, or charmed it out of Mothma or Halsey."

"First of all, not even I could charm old Teeth and Steel," Mission smiled, referring to Mothma by his old nickname, "Second, I've been a little busy watching your Alain. Remember?"

Mira didn't blush, but she couldn't meet Mission's eyes.

"Sorry, you're right. Alain's probably gonna grow up knowing more Twi'lek than basic." Mission looked horrified as she noticed an edge of bitterness enter Mira's voice.

"First of all, I was just kidding you. Second, I speak basic better than Twi'lek… trust me." Mission felt her own head tail self-consciously. "And finally, you're a fine mother. Don't beat yourself up so much. You're trying to be a Jedi and a mother."

Mira only grunted, returning to her work silently. She hadn't spent enough time with Alain. Neither had Halsey for that matter. There was always someone looking after him, but it never seemed to be them.

"_He needs his parents."_ Mira thought bitterly, twirling her lightsaber between her fingers thoughtfully. _"Maybe, if Halsey and I get out of this, we can settle down…"_

Even as she thought those words and considered vocalizing them, they died in her mouth. She was a Mando slave turned bounty hunter turned Jedi. She'd fought a shadow war against the Sith and had plunged into the unknown to fight an empire…She was a little past settling down.

"Well," Mira began, turning to look at Mission, "Someone's sensors out there pinged us. We don't know where, but they know where we are." Mira unconsciously felt back at the bench for her blaster. "Assuming it's who we think it is…well, they won't be coming her to sell us muju fruit."

"Ah, so we're fighting?"

Mira nodded, realizing the ludicracy of the situation. The _Shield _was the most advanced ship in the Republic's arsenal, specially outfitted for its mission. It could hold its own against ships twice its size. But against a fleet…impossible.

"They'll be coming soon." Mira murmured, her mind elsewhere. "But I just can't see it…"

"That's what makes it so fun!" Mission smiled, painfully cheerful as usual. Mira wished she had that…the naïve idea of invincibility. Maybe Mission had spent too much time with a wookie bodyguard, but she never worried about her own safety. Mira on the other hand worried about almost nothing else.

* * *

Halsey was on the bridge when the their sensors picked up the ships.

"Contacts." Their comm. officer reported. "Fighter picket groups Sull and Gdan have visuals."

"Have them get accurate estimates and then recall them immediately. No hard contact. Fire only if fired upon."

"Aye sir." The comm. officer relayed his orders as Halsey immediately turned to the rest of the bridge.

"Weapons, begin charging reactors. Link turbolaser banks on port and starboard sides for charged volley."

"Aye sir. Turbolaser banks A through C at sixty percent. D and F at sixty at well. E is running hot."

"Reroute excess power from E to shields. Helm, position us in the gravity well of the planet, then rout all power from propulsion to maneuvering engines."

"Aye sir." The helmsman waited a moment, listening to his headset for a long moment before looking up. "Sir, we may have a problem. Engines are reporting fluctuating power. No explanation."

Over the speakers of the ship, a loud voice began announcing general quarters, ordering troopers to battle stations. All across the ship, Marines and crewmen hurried to emplaced guns and positions.

"Get a repair crew down there." He continued over the disembodied voice. Problems like this before a battle were unfortunate, but expected. "And have Mothma ready his men for repulsion of boarders. I want security teams at every corridor crossway."

"Mothma's already moving sir." The comm. officer turned again. "Troopers in place. And Mothma himself is moving to reinforce the bridge and coordinate his troopers from there."

"Negative on that." Halsey didn't need protection; the bridge had plenty of firepower. "Tell him to take command from the hanger. That's where they'll try and hit us."

The comm. officer relayed the message, listened for a moment, grimaced, then looked up.

"Do you want to know where he told you to stick your orders sir?"

Halsey sighed. How was he supposed to command an army that never listened?

Shaking his annoyance off, Halsey took a few steps back, bracing on his chair as the ship began tilting violently towards the planet.

"As soon as we're in place, seal all access bulkheads and set shields to double front."

* * *

Mission had never considered herself a soldier. But now, hunkered in the hanger behind makeshift barricades of maintenance equipment and hoversleds, she realized that was what she'd become. Zaalbar roared, causing several soldiers around her to start.

"Easy big guy." She winked at the soldiers, patting the big fur ball on a colossal shoulder. "No baddies here yet."

Her comlink buzzed at her side for a moment. She leapt slightly, her heart racing.

"_Maybe I'm not so calm either."_ She mused as she drew the comlink from her belt.

"Mission here."

"Mission, we've got a small problem." It was Mothma's voice, sounding more urgent and strained than he'd ever heard her. "I just got a report from engine rooms from a security squad, and somebody's taken a Forcedamned sledgehammer to the place."

It took a moment for Mission's mind to process this news. "Sabotage?"

"Dunno who did it," Mothma continued, "But I've got my men combing the area now. I'm heading to the bridge to lock it down. Quickly, before we seal the bulkheads, move a squad down there and help them find this guy."

Mission nodded to herself. "Copy. On it."

She snapped the comlink off and relayed what she heard to the troopers.

"You guys stay here." She pointed to one of the squads, then looked to the other nearest group of soldiers. "You guys, come with us. I'll explain on the way."

* * *

Halsey looked over the hologram of the system, intrigued.

"We have nine capital ship contacts sir, along with numerous smaller fighter and transport class ships." The ensign briefing them pointed out the dagger shaped outlines of the ships. They were eerily reminiscent of the ships Halsey had seen the Sith use in the war.

"They've set themselves up in a double helix formation so they cut off most of the system and stagger their lines. There's also a fighter screen twice the size of our own fighter corp deployed about a kilometer in front of them."

"What else do we know about them?"

"They seem to carry armament similar to ours. Turbolasers, point defense quad cannons, etc." He paused for a second, looking at the weapons officer, who sighed heavily.

"However, these ships are relatively small, built more for maneuvering than slogging matches sir. Pulled back into the planets gravity well like we are, we should be able to take away that advantage and draw them into a heavy weight fight."

"And the _Shield's_ got the tonnage to take quite a lot in the way of damage." Another officer added. "So, what are your orders?"

Halsey thought, his fingers drumming a steady pace on the holoprojector. Despite his officer's sunny outlook, they all knew that the _Shield_ was in no way a match for nine cruisers. Add to that the fact that they knew very little about their armament, and Halsey refused to even consider victory.

"We'll hold our position here." Halsey nodded to the officers. "Keep your men at your posts and ready. Fighter groups are to be deployed in a Cambrian circle formation around us. Keep 'em spinning so we can screen our movements." The Cambrian meant that the fighters would move constantly in circles, each covering each others vulnerable rears.

"Aye sir." The men responded, quickly returning to their jobs. However, before they could go, Halsey grabbed the communications ensign by the arm.

"Do they use comlinks like we do?" He asked the bewildered man hurriedly.

"I-I suppose so sir."

"Then I want you to establish a link to the nearest cruiser, and call a truce. I want to talk to someone who's in charge and not hell bent on kill us. Understood?"

The ensign nodded, a little speechless. The Admiral wanted to negotiate with them? Unusual to say the least…

But the ensign silently returned to his station, searching for the appropriate com signal, and praying they would reach the ships in time.

* * *

Mission and her soldiers moved relentlessly through the hallways, weapons readied. They needed to make it to the engine room before Halsey sealed the bulkheads. It was standard strategy in a ship to cut seal off sections of the ship from others in case of hull breaches. They could also then vent atmosphere if the ship caught fire.

Unfortunately, this also made it almost impossible to move through the ship, so Mission and her squad needed to reach the engine rooms before the bulkheads sealed. Still, Mothma would keep Halsey from sealing them until they were ready.

"Almost there…" She murmured. Mission of all people knew how deadly a saboteur could be. Whoever it was was dismantling the ship from the inside out. And Mission Vao would find him.

Unfortunately, she'd had to leave Big Z behind. The big guy would have had trouble moving in the tight confines of the engine compartments, so he'd stayed behind in the hanger. Mission felt slightly vulnerable…less secure without her lifelong companion besides her. Besides, she'd gotten use to having her own personal wrecking ball besides her.

* * *

Mira was on her way to the bridge when her comlink chimed.

"Yes?"

"Mira, we've got a problem in the engine room." Mothma's voice was haggard and exhausted. "A saboteur… in the engine rooms…we don't know how he got on."

"What do you need?" Mira instantly went into emergency mode, her hand drifting to her saber and blaster.

"Go to the engine room and help Misson find this guy. I'll tell Halsey to not seal the bulkheads."

"Copy that." Mira changed direction sharply, sprinting now. She wore her Mandalorian jumpsuit underneath her Jedi robes, and carried enough weapons and ammo to fight an army. This was it…her moment. Do or die.

Halsey turned quickly as the doors to the bridge slid open, and Mothma entered with a squad of heavily armed marines marching behind him.

"You know, if you're not going to listen to me-" Halsey began. But was cut off.

"I sent Mira and Mission to find our little problem. They should be enough for to find the little bastard."

The admiral sighed, rubbing his temple irritably.

"Fine, whatever. Are they there yet?"

"Aye sir."

"Good." Halsey turned to the rest of his crewmen. "Seal the bulkheads and prepare for battle!"

Mira was about halfway there when the bulkheads started closing. She heard them sliding behind her, the metallic clanging of menacing footsteps behind her as they snapped closed.

She ran, sprinting pell-mell down the hallway, but there was no way to out run them. A door clanged shut in front of her, its metallic screech spitting in her face.

She punched the metal with her gloved fist. "Kark!"

She reached for the comlink embedded into the wrist of her Mandalorian armor, but the communicator merely crackled with static.

Drawing her blaster, she fired a few futile shots at the bulkhead, but soon lowered her weapon disappointedly. Mira nearly lost control there, but she was just letting off steam. Even her lightsaber would take weeks to carve through the reinforced durasteel.

And then, Mira heard the distinct hissing of air being released into space.

* * *

Mission was in mid sentence when an overwhelmingly loud hissing noise. Now, Mission wasn't much of a pilot or spacer, but even she knew that hissing air was never a good sign in the vacuum of space.

She reacted instinctively, drawing her sidearm and firing twice into one of the nearby ventilation vents.

"Get inside!" She screamed at the men as the hull of the ship began to rapidly depressurize. She leapt inside head first, hauling one of the troopers in after her by the collar of his uniform. He gave a small yelp as darkness enclosed them, but Mission was already moving, dragging him along the confined space as she felt the air around her pull and grab at her.

Cursing more violently than she even knew she could, Mission grabbed at her belt for a rebreather before continuing, slapping it on the face of the soldier. She continued moving, dragging the soldier as he pushed along with his flailing legs.

The compartment was rapidly depressurizing now as the air was vented into space or routed to more secure locations on the ship. Mission hurried; mentally counting down the seconds till her body was crushed by the depressurization.

* * *

As the air was sucked out of her tiny alcove, Mira silently cursed. To die here, with a child and a man who loved her, was unacceptable. Luckily, Mira had thought ahead. She sealed her Mandalorian armor, donning the helmet and ensuring it too was carefully sealed off from the vacuum of space. Then, with a sharp jerk, Mira found herself flung into the expanse of space.

She wasn't warm, but the hardened and sealed exterior of the Mandalorian armor kept her body reasonably protected. Yet, in her hurry to survive her ejection from the ship, Mira had forgotten one thing. See, space was big and, put simply, it had lots of debris.

"Meaning nobody will ever find me." Mira groaned to herself. Her armor could recycle air for a half hour. Then, she would die.

* * *

"Bulkheads sealed Admiral." The young ensign who had spoken turned and looked up at the commander from the command trench. "They have rejected our offer for communications. Enemy ships accelerating to attack speed."

"Well then, so much for negotiation." Halsey stood, gripping the back of his command chair tight. "All batteries, target enemy ships positions resembling weapons platforms. Maximum firepower."

"Copy that sir, acquiring firing solution in fifteen seconds."

"Sir," A lieutenant reported sharply, "Enemy light cruisers moving into wedge formation. Their concentrating their fire."

"Solution acquired sir."

"Fire at will." Halsey squinted slightly at the viewscreen. The smaller ships were speeding ahead of the enemy skirmish line, an arrow aimed at the _Shield_'s heart.

"Firing. Impact in five." Halsey watched ship sized beams of lights streak from his own ship towards the enemy line. A few moments later, the ships behind the skirmish line seemed to explode with flame, their jagged shaped briefly illuminated with burning energy.

"Enemy damage estimates unknown sir." The Lieutenant to his right murmured just loud enough to hear. "We can't judge where to hit these ships. Their designs are too foreign."

"Admiral!" Another ensign yelped, already punching info into his console. "Enemy has launched projectiles. Torpedoes of some sort. On impact course. Thirty seconds till impact."

"Brace. Brace!"

Even as Halsey braced himself against the crash webbing of the ship, he realized something was wrong. No ship fired weaponry was that slow. The _Shield_'s point defense laser system would pick them off before they came within a kilometer of the ship. Thirty seconds was far too slow.

Halsey turned to express his feeling to Mothma, but was surprised to see the old soldier had pushed an ensign from his station and was working furiously at his station.

"What are you d-"

"Automated defense laser system deactivated." The _Shield'_s unnervingly calm voice sounded throughout the ship."

Halsey was still gaping in shock as Mothma drew his sidearm. Near the door to the bridge, a half dozen of his security troopers raised their weapons. A second later, the bridge of the _Shield_ was turned into a pit of fire, blaster bolts pinging of the shielded walls and burning through Halsey's hapless crew. A few of his officers drew sidearms, firing from whatever makeshift cover they could find.

"Mothma what is the meaning of this!" Halsey drew both his long thin vibroblade foil in one hand, his blaster in the other. He measured the distance between them, but before he could attack a repeating blaster sounded and wounded him in the thigh.

"Don't act so shocked Admiral." Mothma advanced, the barrel of his repeating rifle still smoking. "You didn't really think that the Sith were extinct do you?" He raised a fist to his men and they fanned out, rounding up Halsey's surrendering officers and gunning down those who still resisted.

"You're a Sith!" Halsey crawled behind one of the computer consoles, now smoking heavily.

"No. I told you I served under Revan didn't I."

"The Republic did extensive background checks on everyone before they left on this voyage." Halsey called back from his cover, buying time as he slotted another powerpack into his blaster. "We would have seen if you'd been an officer of the Sith Empire."

"I never joined officially." Mothma explained. His voice was in a different location. He was trying to flank Halsey. "I served with Revan in the Mandalorian Wars, but after Malachor Revan approached me and ordered me to return with the parts of the fleet that desired to return to the Republic. For years, I passed information to Revan unsuspected."

Despite his danger, Halsey felt his heart leap into his throat. "Nobody ever suspected you?"

"You didn't think Revan would be foolish enough to let those who followed the Exile back the Coruscant without a spy amongst their ranks did you?"Mothma shook his head. "I'm very good at what I do Admiral. However, after Revan's redemption, I realized that the Sith were no longer a power in this galaxy. So," Mothma smiled. "I decided to seek out these "True Sith" that Revan always spoke of."

Mothma was close now, and Halsey seriously considered breaking from cover, if only for a moment to run Mothma through. But he had one last question.

"Then why lead the Republic all the way to your allies?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Mothma laughed mirthlessly. "This ship's is a goldmine of tactical and navigational information. The Sith will easily be able to trace your ships path back to the Republic and, with a full knowledge of how your weapons work, crush you. Those torpedos the enemy fired were boarding craft. It's only a matter of time before you lose this ship."

"Halsey," Mothma called out, his voice brimming with mad joy, "You know the Republic can't win. It's too weak. You know what the smart decision would be. Especially for your child."

Halsey froze. His child. Alain.

"Mira's dead. I can almost guarantee she was sucked into space on your own orders. However, you can still save your son."

"Where is Alain?" Halsey called, even as he turned to access one of the abandoned consoles. "What have you done with him!"

"He's unharmed." Mothma assured soothingly. "One of my security teams picked him up from Mira's quarters. He's safe, for now."

"How can I be sure?" Halsey spat, forcing anger into his voice even as he tried to focus on the pass codes he input into the console.

"We could bring him up here if you'd like?" Mothma reasoned, obviously aiming for an easy surrender. "Come on Halsey. Is one decrepit Republic worth the life of your son?"

* * *

From space, Mira could see the planet far below them, their orbit bringing them almost into the atmosphere. Luckily, she would not burn up on reentry. The she'd been propelled from the ship with the rapid decompression, sending her hurtling towards the skirmish line of ships.

As she came closer, Mira saw them. Small, escape-pod sized crafts, largely un-propelled, simple projectiles launched from the skirmish line of hostile ships. Then, Mira had an idea.

The boarding pods were fast moving, but Mira had the Force on her side. She yanked a tightly wound wire from her belt, attaching it to a magnet tipped dart. Unfortunately, her launcher would not work in the deadness of space.

Letting the Force guide her, she launched the dart at one of the passing pods. It stuck, suddenly yanking her from her collision course with the Sith fleet. Being pulled along, Mira hauled herself forward towards the cylindrical boarding craft, her hands scraping desperately on the hull.

Flexing her hand, she ejected the wrist blade, slamming it hilt deep into the the metal. The pods flew through space, Mira clinging desperately to it's hull.

"Coming out of hyperspace." Atton announced from the helm of their ship. Bao-Dur shifted uncomfortably behind him. They'd arrived at the source of the signal, deep in the unknown regions.

As the shocking white of hyperspace darkened to black space, Bao-Dur was struck by a number of things. First of all, the utter lack of stars here. This system was evidently far from most other systems, as there were very few stars.

Second, the rather numerous blast and pinpoints of light streaking through space, that Bao-Dur recognized as turbolaser fire.

"Evasive action!" Atton warned, throwing their ship into a tight roll as a burst of plasma energy bigger than them came within inches of incinerating them.

"Well," Bao-Dur mused, "I'm guessing we've found them."

"I'd say so." Atton grinned. "Picking up numerous snubfighter friendlies, and one carrier trading fire with nine unidentified cruisers. The _Shield _I'm guessing. Should we rendezvous with it?"

"Wait." Bao-Dur leaned forward, squinting at one of the many sensors. "Those other ships...the dagger shaped ones."

Atton turned their ship slightly, bringing the line of ships into their viewport. The energy lancing from them pounded into the _Shield_, making it's shields spark and shutter. Five of the smaller ships, which Atton assumed were Sith, were on fire and listing out of the enemy line, but the rest were undamaged and the _Shield's_ return fire was slackening steadily.

"I vote we don't land on the ship that looks like it's about to crash." Atton offered. "Any other suggestions?"

"Yes." Bao-Dur pointed towards a cluster of pods, rapidly rising towards the large Republic carrier. "I think we've found an old friend."

* * *

As the pod Mira clung to neared the _Shield, _she began to regret her decision.

"_Should'a thought this one through."_ She raged quietly. Her suit had a few more minutes oxygen, but then she was doomed. And she didn't exactly have a way back onto the ship. The only thing keeping her clinging to life was the small blade protruding from her armor.

Even if she did manage to make it onto the hull of the massive Republic carrier, there was very little chance she would be able to carve through its shielded hull.

Then, a gift from the Force. She felt it surge around her, giving her strength that moments ago would have been impossible for her to find. Remembering the Exile's teachings, Mira let herself fall into its stream of energy, feeling it directing her actions.

She pushed off with a small grunt, and floated backwards into space.

For several long moments, the utter silence and weightlessness terrified her. Mira feared that she would be doomed to float through space forever, until she gradually suffocated. Then, she felt her back strike something solid and metallic. She turned her head, and saw the hull of a small freighter painted with Republic markings floating inches behind her.

Mira grasped desperately at the hull, eventually finding a handhold. Pulling herself along the stationary ship, she began to notice a pair of Force signatures that she had not felt before. As the rear ramp of the ship opened, Mira was pleased to see Bao-Dur holding out a hand for her.

Halsey's command crew was dead. His guards were killed. His thigh was sizzling with a deep wound. And Halsey noticed none of it.

Alain was his child. Mira his...not wife, but something, no matter how much she acted aloof and irritable with him. And this man- this traitor- was threatening their lives. It took the young admiral a half a second to decide what to do.

Command ships and their bridges were always well protected against attacks, and exceptionally shielded against both kinetic and energy attacks. Of course, these shields were directed outwards, always working on the assumption that nobody would be stupid enough to create a breach on their own ship.

Halsey, in his fatherly rage, was that stupid.

Knowing his pistol would never breach the thick glass of the reinforced viewports, Halsey turned, spinning his vibro-foil so he held it downwards, like a spear. He stood, turned, and hurled the vibrosword at the glass.

"NO!" Mothma cried, raising his blaster pistol even as he turned to flee.

The thin sword immediately pierced the wall, cracked it, and the viewport shattered under the pressure. The rushing wind pulled at Halsey, even as he clung to his command console with rapidly weakening arms. The exposed security squad was hauled off their feet, thrown forward, their heads either dashed against the many walls and other objects or thrown out the open window with the rest of their bodies.

* * *

In short order, the blast shields around the bridge sealed it from the outside vacuum, and Halsey could loosen his grip. Getting to his feet, he surveyed the wreckage. He was the only one alive, but he knew that Mothma had certainly escaped.

Dragging himself to a still working communications console, he began an announcement to the whole ship.

"All remaining loyal Republic soldiers on the _Shield. _Make your way to the nearest escape pods or ship. The _Shield _is compromised by enemy forces. I am going to scuttle the _Shield_ on the nearby planet. Halsey out."


	14. Chapter 14 Regroup

**_We're getting near the end. And finally, this is the Chapter that will connect to my other story, The Jedi Strike Back. You don't need to read it, but you will have a better understanding of this story. Thanks again for reading!_**

Mira and her two friends watched in horror as the _Shield _fell, it's circular frame breaking under volleys of fire from the Sith fleet. It's guns still fired, but the emplacements were gradually falling silent as escape pods and ships broke away from the burning wreckage.

She was even more surprised to find her heart ache. Halsey's final message, broadcast across the Republic's comm channel, had aroused in her a pain she didn't think possible.

"We need to get ground side." Mira declared, her fingers dancing across the butt of her blaster pistol nervously. "Quickly. The Republic needs to be warned that the Sith are coming, and we can't abandon those soldiers."

"I agree." Bao-Dur nodded, his Force presence calming the very air of the cabin.

"Well, good. As long as we're ALL happy with this blatantly suicide mission." Atton rolled his eyes.

"Weren't you trying to drink yourself to death a year or two ago?" Mira snapped.

"Weren't you hiding in slums a year ago?" Atton shot back. "Besides, this is cheaper. It turns out that drinking yourself to death is really expensive."

"When you two are done, could we get back to the problem at hand." Bao-Dur leaned forward, surveying the planet with sensors. Then he activated the powerful communications of the freighter and began broadcasting on a wide frequency.

"All Republic fighters and surviving ships. This is Jedi Master Bao-Dur. I'm am giving the order to rally at point zero nine bravo planet side. All soldiers and escape pods are to rally there and set up defenses in preparation for ground assault. Bao-Dur out."

"And now, we get over there as fast as we can." Atton murmured to himself, swinging the ship towards the planet. "And hope enough ships survive to warn the Republic."

But Mira shook her head. "It's not only that." Mira explained worriedly. "We need destroy any navigational data on the _Shield._ Otherwise, the Republic will have a Sith fleet on it's doorstep in days."

"Right." Atton was quiet. "This really is a suicide mission isn't it?"

Mira didn't respond. All she could think of in that moment, was her son's father, trapped on a burning ship. A smoldering sense of righteous anger gripped her heart in a shaky grip.

_I'll get you to you Alain. I swear I will.

* * *

_

Mission never considered herself much of a leader, but the soldiers she'd managed to save from the airlock seemed to disagree. Not that Mission had tried to chase them away or anything, but they were trailing her like lost puppies now. And the way they called her ma'am...It infuriated her!

Still, they could field at least eight rifles between them and they at least made for good, if quiet, company in the burning ship.

Halsey's announcement had them all running for the escape pods, but as the _Shield_ continued it's descent through the atmosphere, it became clear that large parts of the ship were breaking apart. Fires had broken out in the compressed compartments while others were venting atmosphere at a frightening rate.

"Ma'am, where are we going?" One of the soldiers, who Mission recognized as Cole from their ground side mission, asked.

"No idea...and quite calling me ma'am." Mission edged along the many hallways, scanning with her rifle's scanner. Nothing. She signaled for the rest to follow and rounded the corner.

Every corridor was carefully checked, meant to find survivors. But none remained. Mission was particularly worried about Zalbaar. She hadn't heard from him since she'd abandoned him in the hanger. She assumed he was still there, and was trying desperately to get there, but for all she knew, he'd already abandoned ship.

Then, as if summoned by her thoughts, her comlink blared.

"Hello?" Mission answered immediately. "Big Z! Where-"

The wookie's roars and howls of distress interrupted her mid sentence. Mission listened for a moment before nodding slowly in horror.

"Are you all right? Big Z? Big Z!"

A garbled roar broke through the static, warning her that the hanger bay was being taken by enemies, before losing the signal. Mission waved her hand, now sprinting towards the hanger.

"We're losing the hanger, and our ride outta here. Let's move!"

* * *

When Mothma burst into the hanger bay, he was shocked to be greeted by a volley of blaster fire rather than his own loyal troops. They, he later realized, were pinned down in the supply cache on the far side of the hanger.

They were grinding through the small number of Republic troops who had barricaded themselves around the ships, but couldn't quite break through. The one issue was that damned wookie. Mothma of all people knew that one soldier could make a difference, and those Republic soldiers had rallied around him.

On the other hand, Mothma knew that when the fur-bag died, so would the Republic's resistance. Mothma set Mira's son, his little hostage aside just long enough to grab a sniper rifle and take up a position while his men advanced towards the row of remaining ships protected by Republic troops.

He swung his rifle, centering the reticle on the wookie, who had drawn a pair of blades and was carving through his troops with both strength and strange animal grace.

Mothma felt the sudden urge to murmur a little goodbye to the berserking monster, but he didn't. No time for theatrics. It would have been a waste of breathe anyways. He was about to pull the trigger when his sixth sense for danger seemed to scream at him, and a volley of blaster fire sounded towards his back.

He spun, firing as he did, not checking whether the blast hit his target. He drew his sidearm, firing instinctively and dropping two of the soldiers with 2 quick blasts. But his own men were taken by surprise. Knowing they couldn't stay and fight, Mothma scooped up the child and ran, firing as he went.

"NO!" He heard a familiar voice scream behind him. He glanced back and saw that blue Twi'lek sprinting after her, aiming down the sights of her blaster.

Mothma turned quickly, firing a quick burst of rapid fire. The burst of energy caught Mission low, grazing her right calf and bringing her to one knee. She winced but fired, hitting Mothma in the back of his own thigh.

He stumbled, but kept running through gritted teeth. He had to escape before-

His thoughts were interrupted by what appeared to be a carpeted fist swinging towards his face.

Mothma fell, his legs flying forward. He still clung to Alain, knowing the kid was only good alive, but the child was yanked from his grip.

"Mothma?" Mission's voice was shocked. "What are you-"

Zalbaar roared angrily, leveling a bowcaster at Mothma.

"We can't just shoot him!" Mission protested, but was again interrupted, this time by the roaring and cracking of the hull of the _Shield_ breaking apart.

"Get to the shuttle!" Mission ordered, wrapping her slender arms around Zalbaar's massive arm and pulling. "Come on."

Zalbaar growled angrily, but Mothma had already moved, kicking upwards at the bowcaster. At that moment, the ship listed and the flat floor they were all on became a ramp. Mothma slid away, leaving a bewildered looking Mission and angry looking Zalbaar behind.

His squad retrieved him, helping him stagger to a different shuttle. They were all to busy escaping the ship now to shoot at each other. His men loaded him up, strapping hi into a shuttle while Mothma injected bacta into his thigh through a syringe.

The pain killer rolled through him, making him drowsy. But it didn't matter. The battle was won. He'd meet the Sith masters he'd spent decades looking for. And soon, he'd find his general again.

* * *

The mood was low in the Republic camp as Mira trudged through the ships and escape pods that made up their shelters. Bao-Dur and and Atton followed, murmuring quietly to each other. They could certainly sense her distress in the Force, but even Bao-Dur knew to not ask a woman questions when she wanted to be left alone.

The _Shield _had crashed a ways off. And that was the big problem.

The _Shield _was a hotbed of information about the Republic. Navigational data, battle tactics, technology...Everything the Sith needed to smash the Republic was right there. More importantly, the extremely complicated set of hyperspace coordinates needed to get to Republic space were trapped in that ship.

The remnants of the Republic had largely rallied here, with the remains of their fighters and transports. Now, they were setting up shelter and distributing weapons, grimly ready for the Sith onslaught they all expected.

The way was clear for Bao-Dur. They needed to get to that ship and destroy it and any navigational data onboard. The question was whether Atton and Mira would see it the same way.

When he'd voiced his opinion earlier, they'd been quiet.

Finally, Bao-Dur spoke up again.

"We have the men and the manpower to do this. We've got our surviving fighters, and our transports can get us there. We'll have to fight, but we can retake the _Shield._"

"Not everyone will be able to get off planet." Atton warned. "We only have a few hyperspace worthy craft."

"It's a worthy sacrifice." Bao-Dur insisted. "If we don't succeed, the Republic falls."

"And for that we should ask a couple thousand soldiers to sacrifice their lives?" Atton shot back.

Silence. Then...

"I think we should do it." Mira murmured, feeling at her belt.

"What!" Both Atton and Bao-Dur turned.

"We need to do this." She bit her lip nervously. "I didn't say this before, but the kid that Mission and Zalbaar brought back...it's mine."

Bao-Dur took the news in stride, but Atton stumbled almost drunkenly.

"Wow, see what happens when we leave Mira on a ship alone for a couple months." Atton laughed. "Where's the father, or did the Force just magically decide to conceive him?"

Mira glowered an imaginary hole through Atton's forehead. "Funny, but having a kid changes things. We need the Republic to protect our next generation. The next soldiers, artisans, even Jedi. We need the Republic now more than ever. And if we can buy even one year with our deaths..."

The Jedi fell silent. They all knew what they needed to do, abut hearing it from the ever practical mouth of Mira had brought the importance of their moment into perspective.

"Atton and I will lead what fighters we have and keep the Sith ships occupied. You'll have to lead the marines and ground corp yourself."

Mira nodded in quiet agreement. Atton and Bao-Dur were far better pilots than she was, and her skill with explosives would be needed if they were going to rig the _Shield _to explode properly. They were in a race against time with the Sith, with the Shield and it's data at the finish line.

Mira looked at the rest of her fellow Jedi, steely resolve the core of her gaze. "Let's assemble our teams. We've got a long day ahead of us."

* * *

Mira lay on her cot for several long minutes, her back extended, yet not relaxed. She had a very important job to do...One last one.

Somewhere out there, Mira could sense Halsey. He was alive, she knew it, but for how much longer she couldn't say.

Wordlessly, Mira sat up, and swung herself off the cot. The Republic had hastily set up camp, yet as Jedi she still got the best quarters. They weren't much.

She knew what she had to do now though. Heading over, she found the box that they'd retrieved from Lehon. Inside, her holocron lay untouched for weeks. Hefting it in her hand, she compared it to the Exile's, whose holocron still lay in the bottom of the box.

From it, Mira had learned many things, including how to change the settings on the security box. It was made from a special technology that responded to certain Force signatures, meaning it could only be opened by a Force sensitive.

Reaching out now, Mira touched the box in the Force, imprinting the core of her presence in the Force on the box. It could now only be opened by her...or Alain when he got older...or some other ancestor of her.

Satisfied with her work, Mira sat back on the cot, feeling up and down her lightsabers hint before gently tossing it into the box. Mira then began unstrapping her pride and joy; her wrist launcher. She'd spent years upgrading it and it felt as much a part of her as her hand. Yet...

Mira knelt down, placing the wrist launcher besides her lightsaber and the Exile's Holocron. Then, she sat back up on the cot, got comfortable, and began.

"My name is Mira, Jedi of the Republic." She announced to the small glowing sphere. "Final Entry."

_**Thank you all for reading! Please Read and Review!**_


	15. Chapter 15 Final Entry

_**It's short, but this is the final entry of Mira's Holocron.**_

"My name is Mira Bralor...But I guess that's not my real name. It's just the name the Mandalorians who took me in after my parents died...it's just the name they gave me."

Mira paused here, apparently collecting her thoughts.

"Over the passed couple years, I've been forced to rethink my place in the world." Mira smiled now, brushing her hair back from her eyes. "I was a bounty hunter, and like most people in my profession, I chose to be pragmatic about my life. I honed myself into something I hated; a predator."

"For years, I hunted the lowest criminals in the underbelly of Nar Shadda. I preferred live captives, but could pull the trigger when needed. I did what I could to get by."

"But I hated it! I hated the looks on the criminals I brought in. Some of them were murderers true. Them I didn't pity. But the rest of them, the pickpockets and people whose only crime was standing up to the local exchange boss...I hated myself every time I captured one of them."

"But what choice was there. I was trapped. I didn't have any other trade other than hunting."

"And then I met the Jedi Exile." Mira paused now, a happy look passing across her face. "She was...amazing. Everything I wanted to be and more. She didn't have to choose between a warm bed to sleep in, and causing harm. She reveled in freeing slaves, and brining hopes to hundreds in the lowest slums of the city."

"It was she who sensed the Force in me, and taught me how to wield it."

"But now..." A frown dominated Mira's face. "Now I wonder about her teachings, and whether they were right. Whether she was right to teach me."

"I am a Jedi. I also have a child...and a man I may love. Does wanting to protect them make me a poor Jedi."

"The Exile always assured me it didn't, but I'm not so sure."

"You see," Mira leaned slightly on her left leg, smiling cockily, "I'm about to go on what I'm pretty sure will be a suicide mission, risking my life, and the lives of hundreds of others to rescue one man."

She spread her arms, imploring whoever was listening to understand. "Does that make me terrible? Am I unworthy of my master? Am I putting the lives of thousands, a whole Republic, at risk for selfish reasons?"


	16. Chapter 16 Battle in the Unknown

**_This is one of the last chapters. Next one will be it. Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing!_**

Water beat against Mission's face and goggles as she slid out from beneath the small freight hauler she and Zaalbar were repairing.

"No you furbag! I need the hydrospanner!"

Zaalbar roared some disgruntled comment and crossed his arms defiantly.

Mission rolled her eyes. "Okay! I'm sorry alright! Now will you please just help me?"

The massive wookie made small growl muffled bark of approval and handed Mission the small tool.

"Typical." She murmured as grease continued to spurt from the bottom of the ship. "He picks now of all times to act like a baby. I wonder-"

A sharp kick to her thigh caused an 'oof' of surprise to escape the small Twi'lek girl. Glowering, she pulled herself out again to give the furball a piece of her mind...and was surprised to see Mira towering over her. Not that that made Mission less irritated.

"Why'd you do that mud-cruncher!"

Mira stood impassibly. She was out of her armor now, wearing her usual leather garb under a Jedi cloak. Mission leaned forward to get a better look at her and saw that Mira looked exhausted, her eyes shadowed by bags and her normally disheveled hair seemed worse than normal.

"Hey," Mission leaned back out, looking concerned, "Are you-"

"I need you to do something for me." Mira blurted out anxiously, then seemed to be surprised by her own outburst, then continued with determination steeling her voice. "A few things actually...if you don't mind."

Oooookaaaay..." Mission said uncertainly. Very few things made Mira nervous.

"I need you...to help me with some preparation for the battle...And then I need you to help lead it."

Zaalbar gave a surprised yelp, and even Mission could only manage a weak laugh as they watched Mira's totally serious face.

"Excuse me, but shouldn't you be doing that." The slender girl, though now grown up, still had to try hard to look intimidating. "I mean, you're the Jedi after all. You're the one with the glowing sword and the-"

"Not anymore." Mira held up the a box, simple and grey. Mission immediately recognized it as the one they'd retrieved from Lehon.

"Inside is my lightsaber and a few personal effects." She explained. "Which brings me to my second point. No matter what happens in the battle, I want you and Zaalbar to escape on one of the hyperspace worthy freighters and get off-planet with Alain."

Mission was speechless for quite a while which, much to her chagrin, Mira commented was a huge accomplishment for her.

It was only when Zaalbar barked his protest that Mission found her voice.

"Big Z is right Mira! Alain needs his mother!"

Mira shrugged. "I know, but I'm being realistic. Somewhere out there, Alain's father and my-" Mira stopped here. What was Halsey to her? Her lover? A fellow soldier? Her love?

"And my...friend is waiting somewhere in that wreckage. I'm the only one who can save him."

"Why go alone though!" Mission shot back. "If you really think a rescue mission is necessary, why not take a squad or to to help?"

"Because," Mira explained in her unnervingly calm way, "Halsey isn't only one reason I'm doing this."

"This attack we're planning is honestly just a desperate attempt. The Sith are to numerous, and we just don't have the firepower to break through and destroy the _Shield._ The attack tomorrow will fail."

"That's why," Mira continued, her glare interrupting Mission's gaping mouth, "I'm going to swing around the fight tonight, rig the reactor core to explode, and destroy everything within a mile radius of that thing."

Mission, whose mouth still hung open, looked uncertain. "Can you do that?"

"Hey, I've been handling explosives since i could walk." She laughed, her red bangs flapping back out of her face. "This'll be pure pazzak compared to my childhood."

"So, what?" Mission shot a meaningful glance at Zaalbar, who gave a small yelp. "You just walk in there and become a suicide bomber?

"I'm not planning to die Mission." Mira seemed to bristle at the suggestion. "Didn't I just say this is supposed to be a rescue mission?"

"The why the kriff are you leaving this box and Alain with me!"

"Because I might!" Mira almost shouted back. Somewhere out there in the dark camp, someone moved in their sleep loudly.

"Because," Mira continued, lowering her voice, "I can't guarantee that Halsey or I will be back to...to take care of him. If that happens I want you to make sure that Alain gets away. You hear me?"

Mission heard Mira. She may have even understood her. But she didn't want to.

"There's no reason for this Mira." Mission practically pleaded with her. "We can win. We can do it!"

"Maybe, but this is the best way." Mira threw a fake cocky grin at the Twi'lek girl who had, over the months, become a friend to her. "But that's why I need your help for a second thing. Yours and Zaalbars."

Mission glanced at Zaalbar. Her old friend nodded subtly.

"What is it?" Mission asked, more wary after Mira's previous proclamation.

And then, Mira told her her plan. And Mission liked it. Force help her...but she did.

* * *

Mothma awoke to a blurring red light being held up to his face. Like any soldier, his instinctive reaction was to draw and fire, but he found his arms pinned at his side.

"Be calm." Mothma heard a deep voice murmur. Yet, it was not a murmur. Though the sound was quiet, it's power seemed to fill Mothma like a seeping ichor. It exhilarated and terrified him in equal measure.

"Relax soldier. Your squad explained your mission to us."

Mothma stirred visibly at this. His men were Sith agents, like him. They were all implanted with devices made to ensure they never broke silence to the enemy. Of course...if these Sith could break these devices hold, then that would mean they were truly following Revan.

"Where are my men?" Mothma asked cautiously.

"Being interrogated by several Lords."

Mothma simply nodded his head at this. He had no more love for his men than any other commander, and they knew it. He led because, out of them all, he was the most experienced and skilled. There was no love lost between them.

"Where is Revan?" Mothma asked respectfully, now fully aware and in the presence of a Sith officer.

By now, Mothma had a better look at the man. He was not quite what he expected. There was no shadowy man shrouded in dark clothe. No cape. No evil laugh or yellowing eyes. There was simply a man, wearing what appeared to be some type of grey unadorned uniform. He had a lightsaber at his belt, but other than that was unarmed, and had a disarming ease to his smile and grey eyes.

"Ah, so you're a Revanchist are you?"

"Of course." Mothma stood a little straighter, his hard eyes meeting the Sith's. "That's the whole reason we came out here. To find Revan and rejoin him."

"And for that you would forsake your Republic?" The Sith squatted down onto his haunches, carefully observing Mothma's reactions.

"The only reason I joined the Republic was on Revan's orders. He used me as a spy, but when he was betrayed, I lost contact with the Sith. After he returned and went into the Unknown Regions, I swore to follow him."

The man was scanning him, Mothma could feel it. He knew Mothma's weakness; his unshakable confidence in his old general. Yet, Mothma didn't care. The man could manipulate him as much as he wanted at this point. All Mothma wanted was to find his commander.

"You want to serve Revan?"

"Yes sir."

The man was quiet again, thinking deeply, strategizing. Mothma recognized a generals thought process when he saw it.

"Do you know what happened to the ship you arrived on?" The Sith Lord looked down on him, piercing eyes boring into his brain. Mothma could practically feel him inside his head, scrambling about.

"No sir. The commander, Admiral Halsey, last broadcasted that he was going to scuttle it planet-side."

The Sith made a slight jerking nod towards the wall to his right, and Mothma realize that their conversation was being observed.

"_Obviously_." He thought irritatedly. _"This is an interrogation after all."_

"He succeeded." The Sith stood away from Mothma, seeming distant and powerful. Like a distant god judging him. "We need the data the ships core would provide. If we give you your squad back...can you retrieve it?"

Mothma sat up straighter. This was why he liked the Sith. They ran a meritocracy. The mission he was offering him was a challenge meant to test him.

"Yes sir." Mothma answered with military discipline.

The Sith considered Mothma for a moment. Then sighed.

"Very well Mothma. You have your mission. Your team is already waiting in the hanger bay."

Mothma nodded, saluting. As he headed for the door though, the Sith Lord stopped him.

"Oh, and this was found on your person." The Sith Lord held out his hand, dropping a small cylinder he held into Mothma's hand. The lightsaber Revan had given to him before he'd sent Mothma on his mission.

"Your master would be pleased with you."

The Sith Lord retreated, falling back into shadow. But Mothma, never one to like being snubbed, called after him.

"A commanding officer would generally give a subordinate his name."

The Sith Lord didn't turn. He simply called back, "Ovair" and disappeared into the dark.

* * *

Ovair entered the holo communications center of his Sith flagship, the _Reaper_. It was the only ship to escape from the battle relatively unscathed. The Republic probably didn't even realize how much damage they'd caused before being defeated. Only three ships of the Sith fleet remained hyperspace worthy, and only the Reaper still had long range communications.

Which was good, because Ovair's Sith masters were calling. Kneeling on the floor of the hologram projecting room, he bowed his head as the Sith Council appeared before him.

"Greetings Darth Fatalis." One of the hooded men before him said, their voices giving no clue as to who spoke over the hologram. "Have you rendezvoused with our agent?"

Fatalis grimaced. "Yes my lord. However there have been...complications."

"Complications?" One of the councilors, a different one now, laugh harshly. "You know very well the Council does not accept failure of any kind; complications or not."

Fatalis bowed his head even lower. "Of course my lord. I merely wish to report that the _Shield_ has crashed on the nearby planet. Recovery will take some time..."

"Unacceptable." One of the Darths before him growled. "Our agent warned us that the Shield would be a wealth of information. We need that...and whatever improved technology they may have."

Fatalis felt a stab of fear, but he understood. The _Shield_ was a single Republic fleet, and had devastated the Sith ships. The Sith needed that to catch up to Republic tech, otherwise it could take hundreds of years. Fatalis had been tasked with the important task of capturing that ship and retrieving the agent who had contacted the exiled Sith.

"I think Darth Fatalis understands the gravity of the situation." One of the voices, a particularly old and gravely one, said drily. "The question now is what he intends to do about it."

Fatalis bit his bottom lip, but felt a small surge of hope. Whether due to infighting on the Council or a pragmatic Sith Lord who understood the importance of his mission, he had an ally somewhere among them.

"I have begun dispatching teams to the surface. The remnants of the Republic crewman defend it, but I have no concerns about them."

"Any Jedi?" A younger voice this time, eager and excited.

"No my Lord. None that we have seen."

Silence. Then...

"And what of the agent claiming to lead the _Shield_ into this ambush." A Darth tilted his head quizzically. "From your report, he seemed earnest to help us due to his loyalty to Darth Revan, and yet he did not mention the Keeper."

Fatalis nodded, confirming the Darth's facts. The Keeper was the Sith Empire's ultimate spymaster and overseer of the Operations Division of Imperial Intelligence. Every move his agents made needed to be approved by him. Anyone operating without knowledge of him...well, he wasn't an _agent_ of their empire.

"Very well Darth Fatalis." The various members began to shift uncomfortably. "You have our permission. However, you should remember that you either come back with the _Shield_, or don't come back at all."

The hologram flashed, and then winked out of existence. Fatalis got to his feet, straightening his uniform before leaving the room. He was greeted outside by his aide, Lieutenant Boz.

"The landing parties are ready sir." The lieutenant stood tall in his black uniform, which matched the Sith Lord's. "All assault groups are prepared to move in on the Republic troops and secure the _Shield_. We are merely waiting for your orders."

Fatalis nodded, but stayed his tongue. The lieutenant was competent enough when it came to leading men, but had no idea how to play politics, especially when Sith were involved. This agent, if indeed he had served under Revan, would possess enough information to make any lowly Sith a member of the Council. Yet, that information was dangerous too. And so, Fatalis sent him and his squad of traitors down to the planet, hoping the Republic would to his work for him. After all, if the agent had never heard of the Keeper...Then he may have to be dealt with anyway.

There was no point therefore, in giving the Republic too much trouble.

"Delay the landing parties and hour Lieutenant." Fatalis ordered, a frown dominating his expression. "Let's see how our little spy handles the Republic..."

Defeating your worst enemy with an ally that may have to be eliminated anyways...It was all very Sith. Fatalis loved it.

* * *

Mira stalked through the heavily wooded area surrounding the Shield's crash site, careful to keep her body wrapped in the low heat signature cloak she wore.

"_And the Mandalorian's just think we're impractical." _ She thought with a silent grin.

As she neared the crash site, the dense woods gave way to a charred and broken disaster zone. The Shield sat smoking, numerous sections burning heavily. It's circular frame was almost cracked in two with one of it's curved arms bent awkwardly over a rising hill.

Mira activated binos, scanning the ship. The bridge had remained relatively intact upon landing, but was bent over from the force of the impact.

"Easy." Mira murmured to herself, beginning to sprint forward now.

As she neared the broken hull of the ship, she angled for one of the many weapon emplacements that had broken open during the fight. Reminding herself that there wasn't much time, she clambered in with her armor.

It was dark. To dark for Mira to see. She trusted the Force, but a good pair of goggles certainly helped. Strapping the all purpose combat goggles to her face, Mira moved through the narrow bulkheads of the ship until she found her way into one of the main corridors. It was easy enough after that.

After living in the Shield for years, finding her way to the bridge was more habit than anything else. She resisted the nagging urge to detour back to her room.

"_A Jedi has no possessions." _She recited inside her head, but it didn't stop the nagging.

Finally, Mira came to the bridge. With the turbolift down, she found herself stuck though.

"Wish I had the damned wrist launcher now." She murmured, kicking herself for leaving it back with Mission in that box. Instead, she wrapped her gauntleted hands around the emergency cables for the lift, and began hauling herself up towards the bridge.

Even for Mira, who was in superb condition, hauling herself up the turbolift while wearing full pack and combat armor was exhausting. As she neared the top, Mira hung from the cable with one hand, ramming her armored fingers into the small opening of the doorway and prying a way in. And with that, Mira entered the bridge.

It was dark. There was flickering lights that were clearly the last remnants of emergency power, but other than that there was nothing illuminating the carnage around her. Carbon scoring on the wall indicated heavy blaster fire, and the crewman of the bridge were strewn everywhere.

"_This isn't space battle damage."_ Mira realized, carefully drawing a blaster pistol from her hip holster. _"Whoever did this was already on the ship." _ Yes, all the weapon damage was from small arms...

Mira poked about carefully through the wreckage, her blaster drawn and ready, until she came across what she was looking for. There, trapped beneath the console of a post he'd no doubt died defending, was Halsey.

He looked handsome in his scarlet admirals uniform, looking clean despite the blood staining it. He appeared to have had his neck snapped on impact. A quick death at least.

Mira felt her knees buckle briefly, and she felt like crying. But then...the whir of repulser lifts sounded. A ship landing. Mira, thinking quickly, dove tore her sight away from her former lover, hurrying away. She needed to either find the data core for the bridge to instigate her plan, but first there was the reactor.

Mira hurried to the navigational system console of the ship. Using schematics taken from the ships blueprints, Mira quickly found the data core and ripped it from it's place. Then, making sure the core and her pack containing the explosives were attached securely to her back, Mira left at a speed only the Force could give her.

The Force was nudging her now, warning her that somewhere in the ship, someone was searching for the small cylinder of data on her back. Mira ignored it with her usual single-mindedness, focusing instead on making it to the reactor with the explosives on her back. Any second now, Mission and the Republic would begin their attack and then it may have been too late to avoid bloodshed.

From inside the ship, she could hear the whirring of more ships landing, disgorging no doubt legions of Sith troops. They'd be combing the ship now, searching for her. She didn't have time.

* * *

Mothma knew something was wrong the moment he arrived at the bridge, only to find the navigation core missing from the navigation console. Upon closer examination, it seemed to core had been wrenched from it's normal resting place rather recently.

"This is bad." He murmured to himself, instinctively feeling for a pistol strapped to his thigh. "This is really bad."

"So we're missing the core." One of his men shrugged nonchalantly. "We've still got the _Shield_. We can always just give them that."

Mothma whirled about, grabbing the offending soldier by his hair. "Listen slimo, the Sith don't accept half done jobs. And if we don't get that core back, it could take them decades, or even hundreds of years to find the Republic! So, I don't think they'll be to understanding if we don't find it."

He knocked the man back with a final twist of his wrist before turning back to the console to examine it further.

"Whoever did this could not have gotten far." He finally declared after a few moments. I want you all to search the ship and find them. Let the Sith deal with the Republic."

The order was answered with resounding 'yes sirs' from his men, before they hurried off to search the ship. Mothma meanwhile shouldered his repeating blaster and hurried into the bowls of the ship. He had an idea of where he'd go if he'd been on a sabotaging run...

* * *

Mira was being hounded. Once again, like most of her life, she was the prey in a hunt. But she was tough prey.

As she stood panting over the smoldering body of one of the men pursuing her, she knelt to examine him. He wore the trappings of one of the _Shield's_ security officers, as had the other two men she'd encountered and received blaster fire from.

She hadn't identified herself as a Jedi, but she had a feeling that wouldn't have mattered. The men hadn't rallied with the Republic after their defeat in orbit, so Mira was willing to bet they weren't friendly. And then there was the matter of the evidence of boarding on the bridge...

Mira shook the feelings of foreboding off, focusing instead on her determination to get to the core. She was close now, and all she needed to do was rig the core to explode, and escape.

"_Maybe this wasn't a suicide mission after all."_ She thought optimistically. Still, there was no point in running in blindly.

As she came to the core room, she edged along the hallway carefully, her blaster drawn and ready.

Nothing.

She found the reactor, deactivated and quiet, but still radiating power.

Nothing.

She began unloading the explosives, placing them at intervals in the complex machinery that would cause the reactor to explode, taking the whole ship with it.

Suddenly, as the last explosive was rigged, the Force flashed a warning, and Mira dove to the side, whirling to fire her blaster as she did.

As she did, she glimpsed Mothma standing on scaffolding above her. He had his repeater raised, trained on her. Her two bolts went wide, but luck was with her. The bolts caught one of the beams supporting the scafolding, shaking it's already unsteady structure loose.

As the catwalk Mothma was standing on slanted and fell, he stumbled, rolling down from his position and hitting the ground hard.

Mira was on her feet in a flash, her blaster pistol blazing as she advanced. Each bolt had the Force's accuracy and precision behind it, but Mothma had years of experience behind him as well. The old man was on his feet in seconds and already hurtling towards Mira.

She tried to swing her blaster around to blast him, but he was inside her arm already, batting it aside with his own rifle and landing a solid kick to her abdomen. The armor absorbed most of the impact, but she still let out a loud grunt as she fell backwards.

Mothma turned to blaster her again, but Mira had had enough. Fair fights had never been her deal anyways. Raising her hand, she let out a slither of Force energy. Not much, but enough to raise the barrel mere 3 inches up, and send his blasts above her head.

"_Too close._" She thought, leaping back to her feet and into a fighting stance.

Mothma re-aimed the repeater again, but this time Mira simply fired one arm out, striking him hard in the face with her armored fist. His head snapped back, nose broken, blood spurting onto her armor.

Mira closed a fist, summoning the Force to crush this traitors lungs. But nothing happened. She was using the Force, but Mothma was resisting somehow. Impossible for a non-Force sensitive. At least without help...

Then, they revealed themselves. Like blood red spears of light rising from the darkness above her. Eight red lights of deadly weapons. Lightsabers. Sith Lightsabers. Mira took a deep breath. She had assumed something like this would happen. It had been to easy after all.

Looking up at each of them, Mira matched their glares.

"Eight of you huh? I must really scare you Sith."

They didn't move. Perfectly still, disciplined killers. Waiting for a command.

"Well," Mira laughed, "I don't really have time for this." Reaching behind her, she swung the navigational core into view before tossing it behind her.

"That's what you want right? Well," She raised her blaster pistol to them. "Come and get it."

* * *

"This is so stupid." Atton murmured to himself as he weaved their starfighter through a hailstorm of turbolaser fire.

"You're not the one strapped to the outside of a fighter." Bao-Dur countered sharply. "Now focus. I'd rather not be shot down before we even reach the Sith fleet."

Atton refocused his attention on the enemy fleet. While the rest of the Republic fighters ran interference, they were to attack the Sith destroyers themselves. Somehow, Atton was beginning to think they were overestimating their own abilities.

"How are we going to take these things down anyways?" Atton asked curiously.

"We'll land on there, and kill everyone aboard." Bao-Dur stated simply.

"Now you're talking." Atton grinned. "We're close. You ready?"

"Ready." There was a thud on the hull of the fighter, and Atton decelerated sharply and saw Bao-Dur shoot forward, a form fitting vacsuit covered missile.

Atton pealed off, angling now for the hanger.

"Meet you inside Atton." Bao-Dur commed before he fell out of range.

Atton nodded to himself. Yeah, they were gonna need it.


End file.
